The Fire, The Whirlwind and The Earthquake
by RikiTiki
Summary: How do you choose between the two halves the beat of your heart? What happens when you don't have to? Complete retelling of Catching Fire and Mockingjay.
1. Chapter 1

**Inevitable disclaimer: I do not own the setting, characters, or situations described in The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, or Mockingjay. More is the pity.**

It is not light that we need, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake.  
-Frederick Douglass

Chapter 1

The sound of her own screams woke Katniss. She bolted upright her eyes flying open. As always when she woke from her nightmares it took her a few moments to place herself in the correct location. The surface on which she rested was soft and warm, instead of hard and rough. She was surrounded by walls that had been painted a pleasant shade of pale yellow, not in the freezing open air. A ceiling rather than a canopy of leaves obscured her view of the night sky above. Katniss took air in gasps, her skin was covered in cold sweat, and goose pimples stood out on every inch of exposed skin. As the two versions of her reality did battle in Katniss' still sleep addled mind she began to sob.

A figure to her left stirred, "-at's wrong?" Gale's voice was muffled by the pillow into which his face was buried.

The answer came from Katniss' right, "Nightmare, go back to sleep."

The sound of Peeta's clear confident tone was like a life preserver thrown to Katniss, still adrift in a sea of panic and uncertainty. It began to pull her toward believing in the reality of walls, ceilings, and beds and to pull her away from the nightmare world where she was strapped to a tree, freezing, fifty feet in the air while human faced wolves were scrambling up the trunk to devour her.

"Your province," was Gale's reply as he turned back into his pillow. Gale had to be up early to go to work in the coal mines of District 12, besides he couldn't do anything to help anyway. Gale had experienced the horror of Katniss' time in the Hunger Games last year, but his horror was the impotent agony of watching every second of the televised event, but because he hadn't been present in the arena his presence was not one that could call her back from the memories of that time that haunted her dreams. The only one able to sooth her was Peeta. At first Gale had experienced a terrible amount of insecurity that his comfort was ineffective, but it had finally sunk in that it was not a sign that Katniss' affection for him was lacking. Just now he was pleased that there was someone else there to help Katniss in her distress, he was exhausted.

As Gale slipped back into a peaceful sleep Peeta enfolded Katniss in his arms pulling her head down to his chest. He didn't say anything, his presence, his smell, the feel of his skin against hers, the steady echo of his heartbeat in her ears, this is what she needed. Moments later Katniss felt herself firmly in the waking world where she was safe from the visions that crowded her mind while she slept. If Peeta was here now, and there were walls, ceilings, and beds then, Katniss knew, the Hunger Games were over, no one was actively trying to kill her, she was safe in her home in District 12. Despite knowing this to be true nearly every night, in her dreams she returned to the arena, to hunger, and thirst, fear, and grief. She dreamed of flames licking at her legs, of explosions blotting out all sounds from the world, of swords biting into beloved flesh, of little Rue, the girl from District 11, as the spear pierced her stomach, of the look on the spear thrower's face as Katniss' answering arrow drove through his throat, of her little sister Prim dying a thousand deaths in the arena with her, Katniss, unable to prevent it, and on rare nights the tumble of a million tons of rock as they crushed her father when the mine had collapsed on him.

Katniss drifted off into sleep again, her head resting on Peeta's chest, and arm thrown over his body, holding him tightly. Peeta wound a few stands of her dark hair around his fingers and smiling, he gently kissed it before brushing back the hair that had fallen over her face. He had expected this night to be a bad one. Tomorrow he and Katniss would start their Victory Tour which would pull them from the nominal safety of District 12 and, over the course of a month, drag them through the other Districts, in which lived the families of some of the children they had killed, and end with their return to the Capitol. The Capitol was the one place in the world that he and Katniss most wanted to avoid, because while there were no more District Tributes trying to kill them, President Snow, and the rest of the government of the Capitol most certainly were still bent on their destruction . Peeta still shuddered at the memory of the hushed conversation he and Katniss had with their mentor Haymitch on the train while they headed back from the Games.

"Don't be dense girl; you aren't stupid so stop acting like it!" Haymitch's voice was harsh and intense, completely free of the alcohol induced slur that usually muddled his speech.

"I can't believe that they would care so much that a sixteen year old girl wouldn't want to kill her boyfriend," Katniss had answered, attempting to sound dismissive of their danger.

Peeta remembered how the Game Master had declared a change to the rules of the Game. Always there had been permitted only one winner, one survivor, but because of the popularity of the "star-crossed lovers from District 12", he and Katniss, they had announced that two victors would be permitted as long as they were from the same District. Peeta had been desperately wounded at the time the rule change had been announced, but Katniss had found him, had nursed him back to health, and in the end they had been the last two left alive. It was then that the Game Master had tried to rescind the rule change and force them to duel it out. Peeta had been more than willing to allow her to kill him, he had been willing to take his own life rather than making her endure killing him, but she had come up with a different plan. Katniss had pulled several berries, the deep purple of a fresh bruise, from her pocket. Nightlock, instant death in a convenient bite sized form. She had divvied up the berries between them and after kissing Peeta for what was to be the last time she looked out at the unseen millions watching said, "I am sorry Prim," and then they had both raised the berries to their lips when the Game Master had called for them to stop and declared them both Victors.

"I take it back, you are stupid! The only things that the Capitol cares about are loyalty and obedience. Obedience is the ultimate proof of loyalty to the Capitol, and here you are on national television showing greater loyalty to Peeta by refusing to kill him than to the Capitol by obeying their orders, and because of Seneca you got away with it!"

"It wasn't defiance, I just couldn't kill him."

"It was defiance, don't lie to me or to yourself, it will get you killed. You have no idea the kind of impact that a successful resistance of the Capitol, however small, could have on the rest of the country. Damn it Katniss people will see your actions and believe that the Capitol can be defied with impunity."

Katniss had allowed a small proud smile to lighten on her face. After enduring the hospitality of the Capitol and being subjected to the horror of the Hunger Games she was of the opinion that the Capitol was evil, intensely, unapologetically, unconditionally evil. For the first time she understood why Gale raged against the Capitol from the safety of her company in the seclusion of the forest. For years Katniss had let him rant, privately considering his outbursts to be a waste of time, and energy. After all nothing could be done, the Capitol held the ultimate power over the Districts; they had the power to destroy them. No amount of passionate outbursts could change the fact that the only two certainties in life were death and the Hunger Games. Now, while she could not conceive of how it could be accomplished, she understood that the Capitol needed to be stopped.

Her smile faded instantly when she looked at Haymitch, who looked like he might slap her.

"Katniss," he groaned, "the Capitol cannot be defied with impunity!"

"We did a pretty good job, we're still alive," now she was feeling defiant, but after a moment's reflection she looked at Haymitch, "why are we still alive?"

"Now she starts waking up," Haymitch rolled his eyes, "you are alive because the Capitol has always portrayed the victors of the Hunger Games as heroes. Your star-crossed lovers act made the people of the Capitol love you and Peeta, but their attention is fickle and all too often fleeting."

"So we are safe as long as we remain in the public eye?"

"Depends on what you mean by safe. You are unlikely to be executed in a public square, but will you still consider yourself safe when Prim's name comes out of the Reaping bowl again next year, or when Gale, your beloved cousin, is arrested and executed for poaching?"

The possibilities were endless, and Katniss realized, none of these things would be felt by the people of the Capitol at all. Gale was not her cousin, but in order to sell the she and Peeta angle, it was necessary to cast Gale in the light of a close friend and family member. Like most people from the Seam they shared certain physical characteristics, the dark hair, the gray eyes, and the sallow skin, so it was not a hard sell. Peeta, like Haymitch, her mother, and Prim all had light hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, they were classic Townies, but Gale was too male, too good looking, and had too often been seen in her presence to be dismissed so a story had to be concocted and close family relation had been the best way to assuage the inevitable suspicion of romantic entanglement.

"How long can we possibly hope to maintain their fleeting favor?" Peeta had asked.

"A year, two at most. If you play your cards right," Haymitch looked at Peeta, "and don't do anything stupid," he looked at Katniss, "this year we have the Victory Tour, make that memorable, then next year the two of you will act as mentors to the new Tributes, people will want to see how you divide the work, and will you compete or cooperate in training the Tributes."

"Two years?"

"At most."

"Is there nothing I can do?"

"Well," said Haymitch brightening slightly in tone and manner, "you could die, that would be convenient, but it wouldn't help you much."

"Nor me." Said Peeta, his eyes fixed on Katniss.

That was how they left it, no resolution, just a very sharp sword hanging over them all by a very thin thread. They had arrived back in District 12 tired, worried, and yet elated. All of the danger was still in front of them but they could not really feel it yet, they had survived the most harrowing ordeal of their lives to date and this imparted a sense of invincibility. Katniss had stepped from the train her eyes scanning the crowd for Prim, and Gale. She was not even conscious of Peeta's hand holding hers, but as her eyes fell on Gale she could see that he was conscious of it, and the anger and pain reflected in his eyes took her breath away. Reflexively she had released Peeta's hand and as she did so she could feel his distress as he watched her looking at Gale.

What had followed was a long awkward month where everyone tried to figure out how the dynamic had changed and what would become of it. Katniss thought about Gale and Peeta. Gale was the only one she had ever trusted, he was breath in a stifling world, he was passion where everywhere there was indifference, and he tethered her to the earth. He was also reckless and fierce, and though she hadn't known how she loved him before she left for the Games, she knew it now. Peeta was a rock, solid where Gale was constant motion, he steadied her, and there was an infinite kindness and gentleness in him that she had never known was possible in a person She spent many a restless night wanting to run to them and explain that she was in love with both of them and that she could not fall out of love with either, but she knew they needed time to sort their minds as well. With the little time they had left she thought of what it would be to choose one of them. Only two fates were possible, either she would avoid and evade the one not chosen, and the one chosen would know why, or she would commit the betrayal of meeting the eyes of the one not chosen and the one chosen would have to endure the sight of her love and longing for the other. Either way it would be a farce and a cheat, and while Katniss would experience the joy of having the one chosen she would still have to endure the absence of the other. It was a problem without a solution to her, so she waited and attempted to adjust to her new life as a rich Townie rather than a starving Seamster.

One night just about a month after her return she was sitting at the dinner table in her new house with her mother and Prim. Her mother had expressed the opinion that Katniss was too young to date at all to the cameras before she had even made it back to the District, Katniss could only imagine that her mother approved of how things had fallen out so far. They were playing checkers and Katniss had just kinged one of Prim's pieces when a knock sounded at the door.

Katniss rose and opened the door. Gale and Peeta were outside. Katniss said no word of greeting but waited for one of them to speak. Gale took the initiative.

"Choose." He said, his tone said more. This situation was humiliating, and both of them had too much pride to go forever shuffling about fighting over a girl, even a girl that they both loved so much.

"How do you choose between the two halves the beat of your heart?" She had asked.

It made a strange kind of sense, the three of them had lived with little joy in their lives, both Peeta and Gale were desperately in love with Katniss and she in love with them. There was a finite span to their lives, two years at most if Haymitch was to be believed why any of them should suffer as they would if she chose between them was beyond Katniss' ability to understand. Peeta, willing to have Katniss on any terms, agreed immediately, Gale took a little longer to come to terms with the situation, but he had come around.

Katniss' mother had been scandalized. She had after all just told the entire country that her daughter was too young to be in any sort of relationship.

"Mother, I have been sole provider for this family since the age of 11, I have been through the Hunger Games where I watched loved ones die, I have killed, I have made life and death decisions for myself and others and borne responsibility for the outcome of those choices. If that does not make me an adult no arbitrary amount of time passing will accomplish the task," was Katniss' reply.

Her mother could not accept it, and moved out of the house in Victors circle, though not back to the hovel in the Seam, she moved into the house that had been given to Peeta. Prim moved with her because their mother was teaching Prim healing, though Prim was adamant that this was the only reason that she was moving.

The biggest change in District 12 since Katniss had departed for the Games was in her little sister. Prim always smiles and gentleness was still in evidence, but she had grown older and stronger. She and Katniss now wandered the forest together, Prim gathering plants, Katniss hunting. Prim could never have brought herself to kill anything, but she no longer feared the wildness of the forest. Prim had always been like a daughter to Katniss rather than a sister, but now Prim needed no mothering. It was strange for Katniss to think of Prim as anything other than a small child. She realized that her mother must feel the same about her, but after a time she found that she liked the new Prim. This she thought was the goal of all her patient parenting, to see Prim grow into the person that she was becoming.

Gale's alarm sounded just before dawn, both he and Katniss rose and while Gale readied himself for the mines Katniss went downstairs to make breakfast. Katniss had objected to Gale returning to the mines after her return. She and Peeta could care for his whole family without even noticing the extra expense, but Gale had insisted. She understood Seam Pride, and knew that Gale would never feel right if he did not contribute to the household. He would feel a guest in her and Peeta's home, and the whole dynamic would fall apart. So he worked and Katniss worried, as she cracked eggs into a pan, she tried to block images of mine collapses out of her mind.

She came out of her unhappy musings when she heard the stomp of Gale's work boots on the tiled kitchen floor. She turned to see Gale's gray eyes go wide.

"Are you thinking that I am going to have to live off of breakfast for a month?"

She laughed realizing that while distracted by unpleasant musings she had gone completely overboard with breakfast, tin biscuits with butter and gravy, blackberries with heavy cream and sugar, eggs, fried squirrel, and to top it off, the ultimate luxury, coffee.

"I have had your cooking, if it weren't for Hazel you'd have starved years ago."

Gale took a seat and began ladling food onto his plate, Katniss poured coffee and they sat in contented silence for a little while. They had spent so much time sitting silently together in the forest waiting for game that they were completely comfortable in each other's quiet company. It was, unusually, Gale who spoke first.

"Catnip, please be careful on this trip, it is so dangerous for the both of you."

"I promise to behave."

"Katniss I am not worried about you doing something intentionally to piss the Capitol off, but you have the unfortunate habit of being unintentionally provocative when you go off script."

"Noted, I intend to make Peeta do the bulk of the talking."

Gale nodded; taking a sip of his coffee, when he set the cup down Katniss took his hand and kissed it.

"Gale you don't need to worry, I will be surrounded by the Preps, Cinna, Peeta, Haymitch, and if all of them are not enough I heard that Effie will be coming along, and you know how she insists on manners."

When Gale kissed her she knew that he still fretted for her safety. She loved the fierce passion in Gale's nature, it made the moments of quiet tenderness that much more meaningful. When he left for work she cleaned up breakfast, and then decided to run their snare line before waking Peeta. Katniss dashed out the kitchen door and headed into town. Victor's Circle was located in a clearing on a small rise off the main thoroughfare. As Katniss jogged along the familiar path she passed the Square where the Reaping was held every year. The Square was encircled by the small market district of District 12. Katniss thought for a moment as she saw signs up in windows listing the staples that were currently unavailable for purchase. It was ironic that for the first time in her life Katniss had enough money to shop in these stores but there was so little to buy, in fact for the first time she was sure that those who shopped illegally at the Hob now ate better than the much wealthier and law abiding Townies. She kept going her pace not slacking as she made her way toward the house that was still technically assigned to her mother and sister in the Seam. Since returning from the Games Katniss had found that running relieved some of the anxiety that had become a constant feature of her emotional background, it was not so bad during the day, she was better able to cope with her experience in the arena when she was awake and had to go through the motions required for living, it was only at night, when she slept that she was overwhelmed. Peeta was the opposite, he slept soundly despite the nightmares, and it was when he was awake and dwelling on what had happened that he collapsed. It was fortunate that they never seemed to need support at the same time. This thought lead to another as Katniss reflected that it was nearly impossible to be brave at all times, she wondered when Gale was not brave, then she realized the answer and it nearly broke her heart.

The Seam was larger than town, but it still took only twenty minutes of steady pacing to reach her old house. It had never been much, but it had been home. Now she used it to store her hunting clothes and to clean and preserve game. Even though the Capitol had as yet managed to make all of the monthly package deliveries on time there was still a terrible shortage of food in the District which kept her and Gale busy in the forest in order to keep their rather long list of dependents well fed. She changed into her well-worn leather boots and father's jacket. She of course did not keep her hunting bow in the cabin, caution was too deeply wedded to her being and possession of a weapon in the Seam was a hanging offense, Victor or not.

All Victors were expected to take up some kind of craft or develop some kind of talent. Peeta had been developing a talent he had only ever been able to exercise in the decoration of cakes at his family's bakery. Now he painted, Katniss had not had a suitable talent or predilection and had spent days pouring over the list of possibilities that Effie Trinket had politely sent her. None of them struck her as even vaguely interesting. Finally she had used her telephone for the first time to call Cinna and ask his advice, as he was the most talented person she knew. Together they had come up with a craft that she was interested in as it was one originally taught to her by her father, but which she had never showed even the slightest aptitude for, bow making. Peeta, Gale, and Haymitch had rioted but she had made the concession that she would never string the bows, they would be purely decorative. In order to drive this point home Peeta had volunteered to paint many of the bows she had made. As her skill improved Katniss even ventured into the arts of engraving and wood burning in order to make her creations more beautiful, she also spoke to Cinna regularly, he had access to information that she did not. While she was enduring the hospitality of the Capitol she had taken advantage of the opportunity to practice her shooting on one of the truly superlative bows that they had to offer the Tributes. Her goal had been to produce something to match that quality. She had so far not succeeded, but she had already surpassed her father's skill and used a bow of her own manufacture when she hunted now.

Katniss slipped through the hole in the electric fence she always used without difficulty since as usual the fence was without power. Even though she was just on the other side of the fence Katniss felt a tension she always carried in the District melt away. She stood straighter, her stride freer and her glance sharper, but less wary. In the forest she was more than a match for any predator, it was the ones in town and throughout the rest of the civilized world that frightened her. The air that filled her lungs was heavy and wet with the scent of rotten leaves and dense underbrush. The weather was unseasonably warm, but there was a bite in the air that told of colder weather to come. Katniss loved the forest in all its seasons, the emerald green of spring and summer, the ruby and gold of autumn, and the sparkling diamond of winter snows. There would be bad hunting today but she strung her bow anyway and retrieved the quiver of arrows that she kept hidden in a fallen tree.

She had been right, the snares were empty, and along the trail she only encountered two quail. Her new bow shot well and she took both of them back to Hazel. When she finished the circuit she returned her bow and arrows to their hiding places and ducked back into the district. She changed into her town clothes and jogged back through town. She dropped the quail off with Hazel along with some hard candy that she had been saving as a treat for Gale's siblings.

"Good luck on your Tour Katniss," Gale's mother said kindly after releasing Katniss from a vice like hug. Hazel and she had been close for almost as long as she had known Gale, and now more than ever she was regarded as family by the Hawthorne clan. Katniss' admiration and respect for Hazel was unbounded, her husband had died in the same disaster that had cost Katniss her own father, but unlike her mother and despite having just had a third baby she had not gone catatonic, but had sought work as soon as she was able. Her children were not always well fed, but they were always well cared for.

"Thanks Mother Hazel." Katniss kissed the woman on her wrinkled cheek and took off for home again.

When she got back home Katniss made up a plate form the leftovers of her earlier breakfast, poured a cup of coffee and went upstairs to wake Peeta. She passed a door that was always kept closed; it was Peeta's art studio. When Peeta began painting Katniss had loved to watch his hands, the long graceful strokes of the brush, the control and competence of his manner, but it had become too difficult when she saw the pictures that were emerging under work of his hands. Katniss ran as therapy, Peeta painted. He had only two subjects, Katniss and the Games. The Games in vivid, unrelenting detail, someday she hoped to be able to appreciate his work, but for now it was too fresh a wound to reopen and she always turned away from the images on the canvas with tears rolling down her cheeks.

Katniss pushed open the door to find that Peeta was still fast asleep. She smiled and set down the cup and tray. She slid onto the bed and lightly kissed Peeta, once on each eye, once on the tip of his nose, by the time she reached his lips he was awake enough to respond.

"Hmm," he groaned and stretched, "morning beautiful."

"Sleep well?"

"Yup, is that coffee I smell?"

"Yes indeed."

She passed him the coffee and the plate, Peeta sat up took a gulp from the cup and tore into a biscuit.

"What time is it?"

"Almost noon, we have to go wake Haymitch."

"Let me finish this," he said holding up the coffee, "then we can fetch the bucket."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Appologies for the delay in this update. I am trying to keep to the author's original structure, three parts, each part consisting of nine chapters, because of this I am needing to cover more ground in each chapter. Besides I thought that the previous version kind of ended on a weak note. I hope that you, dear reader, find this to be an improvement. **

Chapter 2

"_All violations of essential privacy are brutalizing."  
__― Katharine Fullerton Gerould_

There were only three ways to wake Haymitch Abernathy. The first involved the use of a pointy stick at least fifteen feet in length. The second included a bucket of very cold water and some sort of physical barrier between the thrower and the target. The third was to get someone else to do it for you. Katniss preferred the second method as it ensured that clean water occasionally touched Haymitch's perpetually unwashed body. They left the house they shared with Gale; Peeta carried the bucket, Katniss a breakfast tray. The sun was high in the sky and its light flashed on Peeta's straw blonde hair turning it to burnished gold. Katniss thought it was beautiful and it made her think of his hair that night on the train bathed in moonlight, she remembered it had turned silver and how his clear blue eyes had seemed to glow.

They were finally on the train heading back to District 12. The air had seemed charged as she, Peeta, Haymitch, and Effie sat at dinner. There had been little conversation, and Katniss had found that a tension that she could not identify had settled in her stomach and that it prevented her from eating the wonderful dinner that had been presented. She excused herself from the table and went to her cabin. Alone the tension did not leave her, if anything it grew worse. If she had named it she would have called it hunger, but what kind of hunger makes it impossible to eat?

Even the feel of the silken sheets on her skin was an irritant. It was as though every nerve in her body had been fired and now the touch of any surface had an intensity that was difficult to bear. She tossed and turned for what felt like many unhappy hours, and had finally decided to get out of bed and wander the train hoping to find some kind of release when she heard a soft knock at her door.

"Yes?" She called and heard Peeta's voice, soft as the knock answer.

"It's me."

Without reply and with an eagerness even she didn't expect she pressed the button by her bed that unlocked the door to her cabin. The door slid open and Peeta slid into the room. As he came to a halt at the foot of her bed she felt an electricity fill the room, though whether it emanated from him or from her in response to his presence she didn't know. He stood awkwardly leaning on a cane putting most of his weight on his good leg. The moonlight erased all traces of the lines of worry that his time in the arena had carved into his soft features. She watched as he fought to meet her eyes, and was overjoyed when he succeeded. She felt lost in the clear deep pools that his eyes had become in the silvery light of the full moon that hung fat and full outside the rushing train. After what felt like an eternity he spoke.

"Katniss, you know how I feel about you; hell the whole country knows how I feel, how I have felt for as long as I can remember." She heard the strain in his voice, it was as though he were speaking words against his own will, as though he both desired and dreaded the answer to whatever he had come here to ask, "but here, now there are no cameras, no audience, no sponsors to be won, and no retribution to be averted. So here, now I have to ask, I have to know-"his voice trailed off, he could not phrase the question he had come here to ask, but he needed its answer.

Katniss addressed the question to herself, had the extravagant affection she had shown him in the arena been only an act?

Well, certainly, at first. No, she thought not even then, remembering the day that he had thrown her the loaves that bought her the time to save Prim from starvation. She could never have been indifferent to him after that. She thought of all the things she might have said to him in that moment. Peeta, she thought, I could tell you how I felt that day in the rain when a stranger did more to help me stay alive than my own mother, or how I saw when you hefted the spear to throw at Cato when he was climbing the tree to kill me, even though if you had let it fly his Career friends would have killed you a second later. I could tell you how laying in your arms in the cave made me feel safe even in the midst of the greatest danger, or how electric sparks shot through my whole body whenever my lips touched yours. Then she realized the nature of the tension and the hunger that had plagued her all night, so instead of saying any of these things she reached for Peeta's hand and drew him down to her. She let her lips, and her hands, and the eagerness of her body say what her words could not convey. Soon there was nothing between them but the moonlight, and when the moment came Katniss realized she was afraid, but she was the Girl on Fire, and fear had no hold on her tonight. She looked up into the gentle loving face of Peeta and as always his presence steadied her nerves.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

She nodded.

"Oh!" The cry of exultation was torn from her involuntarily.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Better than," she gasped.

This, she thought, was their true moment of victory; this was why they had both had to escape the arena, and with this thought Katniss found the release she had been seeking.

After, when Katniss had caught her breath she whispered to Peeta, "I love you."

His smile was radiant in the moonlight, "I will never doubt again."

That night they slept dreamlessly in the safety and happiness of each other's arms.

Effie had not looked at her the same since that following morning when she had come in to wake Katniss and let her know that Peeta couldn't be found anywhere on the train. Katniss had slept through it but Peeta who had woken at Effie's high pitched squeals of protest had assured her it was the funniest thing he had ever seen.

To get to Haymitch's house they had to pass the one assigned to Peeta in which were currently housed Katniss's mother, her sister Prim, Gale's mother Hazel and his three siblings. It astounded Katniss that any building in District 12 could comfortably house so many. Her home before the games had consisted of three tiny rooms, wooden shutters instead of glass windows, a pump for water, which was cold unless heated on the wood stove, and an outhouse situated just far enough from the house for frostbite to set in during the cold months if you did not hurry. Katniss considered the luxury of their current situation, and was momentarily overwhelmed by the amount of space for which she was responsible.

As they passed Peeta's house Katniss spotted her sister working diligently in the garden that she, Prim and their mother had planted in the house's backyard.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Katniss called to Prim who had not noticed their approach so engrossed had she been in her task.

"Where do you think I am?" Prim called back smiling.

It was a fair statement since she was studying the medicinal quality of plants and their application; but Katniss worried that Prim worked too hard and that she did not get to spend enough time with people her own age. Even if her education was better served by gardening the girl needed to interact with her contemporaries, when Katniss voiced this opinion Prim laughed in that merrily bells tinkling sort of way that she had when abandoning herself to mirth.

"If you are lucky you spend most of your life as an adult, why not get used to their company as soon as possible?"

"Never mind, don't go back to school. I don't need you getting any smarter Little Duck."

"Love you Big Quacker."

"Love you too."

"Down with the Capitol."

Katniss felt her teeth grind at Prim's new favorite farewell. It was dangerous, and though Peacekeepers rarely ventured into Victor's Circle one never knew whose ears were listening at any given time. When Katniss had left for the Games no one actually expected that she would be returning. She had pleaded with Gale not to let her family starve. He had done better than his word. Taking Prim on like a second little sister, or like Katniss had done in response to their mother's indifferent parenting, like a second father. They, the only two people in District 12 who loved Katniss, had spent hours together, Gale supporting Prim through the weeks of terror while Katniss tried to fight her way back to them, Prim giving Gale a reason to fight on through the struggles of everyday life in the Seam, just as she had done for Katniss. Unfortunately in this time Gale had spoken freely of his political views, mainly about his unrelenting hatred of the Capitol, and Prim, who had just cause, had soaked it up and now regularly spat it back out, at an unhealthy volume inside the District.

"Quiet Prim." Katniss hissed.

"Down with the Capitol," Prim whispered loudly.

"It's a good thing you aren't going on the Victory tour," said Katniss.

"No kidding. If I was going it would mean that I had been in the Games, in which case I would still not be going because I'd be dea-" Prim trailed off her soft elfin face screwed up into mingled hatred, and fear, and a little of the ferocity that was so much a part of Gale. Without finishing her sentence Prim threw down the rake she had been using and jumped the fence between her and Katniss at a sprint. She crashed into Katniss throwing her arms around her older sister and squeezing her with all the force her spindly little arms could muster.

"Thank you Katniss, thank you for volunteering, but thank you even more for coming back."

Katniss held her little sister tightly, she knew that the girl was fighting back tears; she kissed the top of Prim's head before extricating herself from the tiny girl's vice like grip.

"It's over now Little Duck," she wiped the tears from Prim's eyes then, gesturing at the half raked garden, said, "go back to school."

Prim nodded, "okay," she hugged Katniss one more time then paused long enough to hug Peeta before hopping the fence again and getting back to work.

"Seeing her here makes it all worth it, the nightmares, and the memories. To see her in this house, gardening, and not starving. This is the life I bought for her with my time in the arena."

"You did well Katniss, and not just in the Games, this is the life you bought for her with every effort of your mind and muscles since you were 12."

"Thank you Peeta."

"Well, I love you. Let's go wake Haymitch."

Despite the bright, cloudless sky every light in Haymitch's house was turned on, and the television was blaring when they entered through the back door that lead into the kitchen. Haymitch lay slumped over his dining table, surrounded by empty bottles. Haymitch had a horror of sleeping in the dark, of being in the dark, which was why all of his lights were on at all times and he never fell asleep until after dawn. With care Katniss eased the knife which Haymitch kept beneath his left hand as he slept out of his grasp then stepped back. The previously immobile figure at the table erupted with the force of a cannon blast when the water splashed over it. His left hand gripped the nearest thing resembling a weapon within reach. Neither Katniss nor Peeta could help but laugh as he brandished a wooded serving spoon as though it were a club.

"You asked us to wake you an hour before the cameras arrived," Katniss responded evenly as Haymitch launched himself into a tirade in which he made some very crass comments about her ancestors and the deficiencies that they must have possessed, moral, anatomical, and philosophical in order to result in her.

"Right back at you bub and you are drooling a little."

She said indulgently shoving a plate of food under his unshaven chin enjoying the various shades of purple and green he turned.

"Perish the thought." Haymitch groaned as he suppressed a convulsion that threatened to bring up the contents of his stomach.

She offered him a cup of tea still steaming. Katniss refused to waste something like coffee on a man that could not appreciate any liquid whose quality was not measured by proof. He drank the tea as he drank everything else in great gulps. She refilled his cup and attempted to tempt him with a biscuit. This time he turned a pastel green rather than a respectable lime and decided to chance it.

"We have to head back to the house, are you going to be alright getting yourself ready."

"A'course I am. Nag, nag, nag. Peeta my boy I can't believe you married this harpy."

Katniss smiled, kissed Haymitch on the forehead then smacked him over the back of his head.

"Harpy am I you ungrateful lout."

Haymitch waved them off while tearing into a second biscuit. They walked happily back along the path that lead to their home. From some distance off Katniss spotted the package that had been placed neatly on their back porch. As they approached they saw that is was a dozen violently red roses, in the center of which was nestled a small ivory card.

Peeta looked perplexed, "Gale?"

Katniss shook her head, "definitely not."

Flowers were not Gale's style, Katniss bent to pick up the roses, she had always enjoyed the scent of the delicate flower, but there was something unnaturally pungent about these, a heaviness that lingered in the air and a subtle metallic undertone to the smell which reminded Katniss unpleasantly of the smell of blood. She pulled the card from the bouquet and let the flowers fall to the ground.

As Katniss read the note two primary drives warred within her and she was not sure if she wanted to die or to kill. The note was from President Snow, written in a neat deliberate hand it read,

_Remember Miss Everdeen; try not to be "unintentionally provocative."_

Unintentionally provocative, those were the words Gale had used earlier that very morning, how had Snow heard? She stood paralyzed by terror, if Snow had heard that what else might he have heard, certainly she and Gale had earned death for treason at least once a day each since her return, even Peeta had delivered himself of some truly fine anti Capitol rants. The horror became rage.

"Katniss, what is wrong?" Peeta's face was confused and concerned. She turned to him ice, in her voice, fire in her eyes.

"I want to kill."

They had been sitting at the table when Gale had tried to warn her against rash behavior, so she began by flipping the table and examined it in minute detail. She found nothing, she knew that this did not mean that there was nothing there, but she had to content herself with the evidence of her eyes. She stood and began tossing the chairs and inspecting them as well, still nothing.

Peeta watched, leaning against the door frame, as Katniss deliberately and systematically tore apart their kitchen.

The Capitol had built this house, there were a nearly infinite number of ways for the Capitol to rig the place for surveillance, and Katniss knew nothing about them. She knew that she knew nothing about them and it was with a growing sense of hopeless frustration that she dismantled the silverware drawer; she reached into the slot where the drawer had been to feel the wall behind when a sharp pain made her pull back.

A thin red line ran down her forearm, as the blood welled Katniss swore. She went to the sink to rinse the cut, instantly Peeta was at her side offering her a clean towel.

"What did that?" He asked.

"Nail," she said holding the towel to her skin, "my Mother brought over a container of her new antibacterial mixture, would you mind getting it for me, it is in the medicine cabinet."

"Sure," said Peeta rising and heading upstairs.

Katniss looked around the kitchen; it looked like a crime scene. Her arm stung, but the pain was an annoyance, it was the deep anger that really needled her, there was something so terrible about the idea that her home was unsafe. This was where she went to feel secure, and now she felt that the delicate window treatments, the lightly painted walls, and even the sturdy planks that made up the floor had somehow conspired with Snow against her. Peeta returned carrying the disinfectant, and a roll of bandages.

"Thank you," she said her voice becoming soft again.

"Would you like help dressing your arm?"

"No I can manage, thank you."

Katniss dipped a finger into the thick glutinous solution and she began rubbing it in along the length of the cut. Two things happened simultaneously, her finger found a small solid mass under the skin of her forearm and she thought about the many ways that the Capitol could use to track her.

Track her, track her, tracker. Immediately her mind rushed back to a conversation she had had when they were being transported to the arena.

"What is that?" She had asked the white uniformed Capitol attendant armed with a needle the length and width of a harpoon who had just demanded that Katniss extend her arm.

"It inserts your tracker." The woman's voice was flat and uninterested, but still had that slightly high pitched saccharine quality that said that she believed she was addressing a simp, or a bumpkin.

"Tracker?"

"It is a little computer that tells the Game Makers where you are in the arena; it also records your heart rate, and acts as your microphone so that the people at home can hear what you say."

Katniss had gritted her teeth as her arm was impaled by the spear. She had always assumed that they had removed the tracker after the games, but what if they hadn't. Instantly Katniss's stomach turned.

She thought of everything that she had said and that that she had done since leaving the arena. She thought of every time she had gone into the forest, how often Gale had accompanied her there. Of all of the quiet happy moments, and of the not so quiet happy moments she had spent with Peeta and Gale, of Prim's favorite farewell, and finally of that night on the train with Peeta, only this time as the images of that night ran threw her head the scene had altered to include President Snow sitting in the corner a wry smile on his puffy lips.

"Katniss?" Peeta's voice seemed to come from a great distance.

She ignored him as she spotted what she was looking for, Katniss went to the counter and calmly removed the chef's knife from the block by the stove, she poised the point of the blade over the spot where she was sure that her tracker continued to broadcast her every word to her enemies. She stabbed downward, but did not feel the bite of metal entering flesh as Peeta had launched himself across the room and seized the knife handle. Katniss was so convinced that she had reached the correct conclusion that she had not even considered how this would look to Peeta, and she was so focused of excising the tiny menace that she was confused by his actions and struggled against his far greater strength.

"Katniss!"

The shriek from the door of the kitchen brought the scene to a halt, they froze as Katniss with the knife still hovering over her bleeding arm, Peeta trying to wrest it from her grasp, they both looked startled as Katniss's prep team stood gazing at them in wide eyed horror. It had been Flavius that had shrieked, he stood with his powder white hands pressed to his forehead a look of hopeless desolation spreading steadily over his face as he took in the scene in the kitchen.

"Your eyebrows!" He moaned then fainted.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Chapter 2 of this fic was the last thing that my mother ever read, and so I would like to dedicate the continuation of this story in most loving memory of one of the people most worthy of love this world has ever known. Like a fiber from my heart has been the loss.**

Chapter 3

"_Rebels learn the rules better than the rule-makers do. Rebels learn where the holes are, where the rules can best be breached. Become an expert at the rules. Then break them with creativity and style."_

-_Kristine Kathryn Rucsh_, _The Rules_

Katniss leaned sullenly against the door frame as Flavius downed his third cup of coffee and held the mug out to Peeta for a refill.

_Does he have any idea how much that costs?_ She thought nearly apoplectic with rage. She might have been more charitable toward the Preps but she was still reeling from the fear and sense of violation at the idea that she was being spied on, add to that the fact that the other Preps had not stopped clucking like mad chickens since Flavius had fainted. The subject of their clucking? Why Katniss of course, her nails, her skin, and for the love of Unity look at that hair! The intended effect was to convince Flavius that her eyebrows were the least of their concerns; an unintended consequence was to royally piss Katniss off. She glowered into her kitchen at Flavius who was half sitting on and half draped over one of her kitchen chairs, the frantic chirping of her guests enough to make her think longingly of the numerous bows stored in her workshop up stairs.

_A fifth cup? This is getting ridiculous!_

"Ahem," Katniss coughed loudly before Peeta could oblige Flavius, "could anyone here tell me when Cinna will be arriving?"

She asked through clenched teeth, her tone pleading. Cinna was not like the others from the Capitol, to begin with, he was sane, and just now she desperately needed some semblance of sanity in her world.

"Oh he will be along shortly, he is seeing to the transportation of your clothes. Which reminds me we must get started, he insists that you be ready for fitting before he arrives," said Venia in her high pitched warble, then gripping Flavius' hand she wrenched him back to a standing position.

The Preps advanced on Katniss, Flavius grabbed one arm, _ took hold of the other and began to pull Katniss toward the stairs while Venia smiled at Peeta showing far too many teeth, "Portia ought to have arrived at your house by now," Venia put her hand on Peeta's Back applying pressure, directing him toward the door, "musn't keep her waiting now must we?"

Katniss laughed in spite of herself when Peeta turned back to her, eyes wide as scrawny Venia pushed him from the house before slamming the door behind him, brushing her hands together brusquely and following her cohorts still dragging Katniss up the stairs.

In no time they had drawn a bath fit for boiling lobsters into which they poured numerous salts, soaps, and salves. The end result was that the clear clean water was thick, nearly glutinous, and smelled of horseradish with a hint of rotten eggs. Katniss was unceremoniously stripped and thrown into the concoction. She gasped at the heat which was a bad idea in retrospect as Flavius pushed her head beneath the surface. When she emerged spluttering and spitting she had to admit that the smell of the water was not half as bad as the taste. Then began a round of the usual indignities to which she had become accustomed to being subjected. Under the none too gentle ministrations of her prep team she was scrubbed, buffed, shaved, primped, pulled, plucked, and preened through two more baths, each smelling better than the last finally emerging from the water the Preps pronounced her human once more.

Next they sat her in a chair and began round two, hair and makeup.

"So sad that Cinna won't permit modifications beyond a little makeup," whined Venia dejectedly, "I could do so much more with you."

"Maybe he'll let us do more for the Quell," said Flavius hopefully.

_The Quell,_ shuddered Katniss. The Quell was a subject which she tried endlessly to forget about, but which reared its phantasmagoric head every time she passed the school on her way to the forest. She and Peeta as survivors of the arena now had the dubious honor of becoming mentors to the future Tributes, a prospect to turn the stomach at the best of times, but this year was the 75th Hunger Games which meant that it was a Quarter Quell. Every twenty five years the Capitol planned something extra special for the Tributes. During the 50th edition of the Games, the one in which Haymitch had emerged Victor; the Capitol ad Reaped twice the usual number of Tributes.

"Haymitch must be so excited; the upcoming Quell must bring back so many memories of his glory days in the arena."

This, thought Katniss, was unlikely as she was sure that he drank like he did in order to blot out the memory of his "glory days," Katniss had never asked Haymitch about his time in the Games, it seemed indecent to pry, and though the Capitol played reruns of past Games throughout the year if she had ever watched his she did not remember it.

"I bet he gets invited to all the best Capitol parties this year," said Flavius with more than a touch of envy in his voice.

"Maybe he could get us invitations too," comforted Venia.

_Better ask him now_, Katniss thought, positive that Haymitch would spend this seasons Games obliterated.

The Preps finished with her hair stood back to admire their work and pronounced themselves geniuses. Looking in the mirror Katniss was almost willing to grant them the title when they began once again to elaborate on the hopelessness of the raw material that they had transformed. Before Katniss could utter a word in her defense she was seized again and dragged down the hall before being shoved rubbed raw, still naked, and newly insulted into her bedroom.

The first thing of which she became aware was the tall slim figure of a man silhouetted against the window at the far end of the room. Without thought toward her state of undress Katniss launched herself across the room flinging herself into the man's outstretched arms.

"Cinna!" She cried smiling joyously.

His answering laugh was merry as they held each other for several long moments, until Cinna pushed her away holding her out at arm's length for inspection.

"You have lost weight since I saw you last," he said disapprovingly, "I will be up half the night altering your new clothes."

Katniss looked back at Cinna. He had an understated elegance to him, unlike so many in the Capitol who went in for major body modifications Cinna's only concession to ornamentation was gold eyeliner which set off his caramel eyes and made his café au lait skin glow. As always his wooly black hair was short and neatly trimmed. He wore a suit which accented the long graceful lines of his body. Katniss looked again at his eyes, there was something strange about them, and she squinted trying to focus on something like a shadow in the irises. Her own eyes grew wide when she realized what she saw. Cinna was wearing contacts which had the image of a mockingjay on fire emblazoned on them. Cinna smiled as realization dawned on Katniss' face.

"They are all the rage in the Capitol," He said slyly.

When Katniss had first arrived in the Capitol it had seemed to her that the world had gone mad. Everyone and everything had looked so strange, she could not get a grip on which end was up. She had been scared and had felt so alone. Haymitch was surly, Effie was, well Effie, and her now beloved Peeta was the enemy, another Tribute who stood between her and victory. Cinna had been her anchor then, his quiet, gentle reassurance had grounded her, and it was his artistic vision that had launched her and Peeta into the public eye. He was the reason that in the Capitol she was "The Girl on Fire."

When she had emerged from the arena a champion, with Peeta by her side, Cinna had continued to help her, coaching her through the interviews that had followed. Since returning to District 12 she and Cinna had stayed in touch spending long hours on the phone discussing something that had become a mutual passion. Bow making.

Katniss tore her eyes away from Cinna and glanced over at three racks hung with more clothes than she had ever seen in one place.

"Ah," said Cinna as she walked over and began rifling through the garments, "My Girl on Fire line, so exclusive that only one set has been made," he smiled.

"You are aware that there are only twelve Districts, right?" She asked in awe of the sheer volume of cloth in front of her.

"Of course I am," Cinna replied, "being from the more civilized part of the world I count quite well, but I also know that people traveling need clothes for the train, for interviews, for dinner, for dancing."

Katniss considered this for a moment, "well in that case, are you sure you have brought enough?"

"Quite, but come I will forgive your plebian notions about fashion if you will show me where you keep the results of our pet project."

Katniss smiled and after pulling on a robe she lead Cinna down the hall to her workshop. She opened the door and allowed Cinna to precede her into the room. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with pegs upon which were perched dozens of bows. The floor was littered with wood shavings and, in the far corner was her work bench heavily laden with tools and scattered with papers covered in annotated sketches. Cinna walked silently, almost reverently into the room. He walked along the walls allowing his fingers to lightly trace the lines of each bow he passed. There was almost something sensual in the way caressed the wood. Finally he reached her work bench on which sat her latest attempt. It was a bow of yew, longer than the one she used in hunting, she had decided to give it to Gale when she finished it, since the strength needed to pull back the string was more than she could manage comfortably.

Cinna picked the bow up and examined it in detail. Katniss found herself nervous. There were not many opinions that mattered to her, Prim's, Peeta's, Gale's, and Cinna's. Cinna was a mentor as much as he was a friend, and she hoped now that he did not come here and find that the time he had spent helping her research this project had been wasted. At last he set the bow down and looked at her.

"Little girl, you have done well."

She smiled looking around at the room. She had kept them all, even the early failures; these were the ones that she gave to Peeta to paint. All of the ones Peeta had painted and many others had little orange tags hanging from them.

"I see that you have marked the ones that will accompany us on the tour," he said, then pointed to the one on her workbench, "though I am pleased to see that this one is not among them."

"Not a chance, it is my favorite."

Most of her bows and many of Peeta's painting were coming with them on the train. Some would be given as gifts to important people in the Districts while others would be sold at auction when they got to the Capitol. Later Katniss would be interviewed about them and asked to present the favorites to a camera. Effie said that it was to show the country what she did with her time now that she was a Champion, but she thought it seemed much more like she was advertising her wares for perspective buyers.

Cinna's smile faltered, his face contorted into a mask of pain, and a tear ran down his face.

"Cinna?" Katniss asked.

He shook his head, "ignore it," he commanded.

His tone was gentle, but she knew this was a command that had to be obeyed; whatever secret pain tore at his heart was not hers to know, not just now at any rate. She nodded and kept her silence as they left the workshop and made their way back to her bedroom.

Once there Cinna perked up again, the smile returning to his lips, though it never reached his eyes. He began presenting outfits to Katniss to try on. She was dutifully and genuinely impressed by each new offering. Katniss had never had the opportunity to be fussy about what she wore, starving to death can be quite time consuming, but she had to admit that if one is to devote time to such things having a personal stylist was the way to go.

"They are all exquisite; it almost makes me excited for the tour just to have an excuse to wear them all."

"A great deal of time and thought went in to every one of them, only the finest quality materials were used, and in each one there is even a special surprise-" Cinna smiled conspiratorially.

There was something in the smile that set off alarm bells in Katniss' head. She remembered suddenly the tracker and that anything that they said would be instantly known by the Capitol. Katniss went wide eyed and began shaking her head and waving her arms trying to keep Cinna from revealing whatever the surprise that made him smile like that was.

Cinna stopped speaking and looked at her puzzled, Katniss moved quickly to a desk in the corner took a pad of paper and a pen and began writing as she said in what she hoped was a natural tone, "ooh what is the surprise?"

She held up the note for Cinna to read:

_I am pretty sure that they left the Tracker in my arm, and that everything that we say is being recorded._

Cinna glared at the paper and took it from her hand; he scribbled a response while replying coyly.

"Well if I told you about it, then it wouldn't be a surprise would it Katniss?"

Katniss read the note.

_Bowstrings have been sewn into all the hems, enough to string an arsenal. Just in case._

Katniss stared incredulously at the man standing before her, this went beyond giving her a few tips gleaned from books that he had read in the Capitol to which she lacked access, this was conscious treason.

"Why are you so mean? I thought you liked me?" Katniss pouted.

_If they find out they'll kill you_.

"I do like you Katniss," he could not keep the sincerity out of his voice, "but I don't think you will feel slighted when you try this on," he handed her a shirt made of some shimmering silvery fabric and a pair of pants. As she pulled on the pants and shrugged into the shirt Cinna wrote a reply.

_That doesn't matter now, they must be stopped._

"Go look at yourself in the mirror and tell me the fabric isn't a marvel."

Katniss watched as another tear escaped from his eye, only to be brushed roughly away.

_Why?_ She mouthed silently.

"It would be a lie to deny its magnificence," Katniss managed to say cheerily.

Cinna bent to write a response, but as he did so the floor beneath their feet began to shake violently. As soon as the trembling stopped a high pitched wail ripped through the still silence. Katniss had lived her whole life in District 12 and had heard that sound only once before.

"Gale!" She shouted in sudden horror as she sprinted out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door.

It was the siren to signal a cave in at the mine.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Apparently I respond well to threats. Thanks Karategirl666 for the shot in the arm I needed to finally get this chapter out.**

Chapter 4

"_The quality of mercy is not strain'd,  
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven  
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:  
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes"._

_-__The Merchant of Venice Act 4, scene 1_

Katniss ran the buildings of District 12 flashing by her in an unseen blur. She saw only the road ahead and the memories that stretched out behind.

She had been barely twelve when she had first met Gale. Katniss had been tracking a family of quail. It had not been her first time in the forest without her father, but the forest was still new to her and Katniss had been frightened. It had been several days since she and Prim had eaten more than scraped ice box and the groaning of her stomach was distracting. She had an arrow on the string already so when a quail erupted from a nearby bush she was able to loose the arrow by reflex.

The bird fell to the forest floor. Too excited for caution Katniss sprang forward to collect her dinner. She was right on top of the bird when she saw her arrow protruding from the quail's eye, and another arrow sticking out of its neck. She drew another arrow from the quiver at her hip, but before she could fit it onto the string a boy with gray eyes and a sallow angry face stepped out of the underbrush to her right. He aimed an arrow at her.

To her mind's eye he seemed impossibly young, but at the time, he must have looked almost an adult. They stood there in silence for long moments, each awaiting the other's next move. Finally Katniss broke the silence.

"You can have the quail."

"I know."

They stood both tense, poised to flee or to fight. Gale had the unquestioned advantage and while Katniss was sure that she put an arrow through one of his eyes it was almost certain that he would get off a shot before he died. What would Prim do without her? It wasn't really a question, Prim would starve, wasting away under the vacant stare of their useless mother. Finally Katniss, unable to stand the tension any longer broke the silence.

"I'm Katniss."

The boy's forehead crinkled in confusion.

"What sort of a name is Catnip?"

"It's no sort of a name, and it's not mine."

"Then what did you say?"

"To clean out your ears, are you going to shoot me or can I go?"

She was pleased that her voice was steady, even though her knees shook from the combination of fear and hunger.

"That was a good shot."

"Yeah," she had said, not as a boast but in regret that a good shot had been wasted on food she wouldn't get to eat.

"Think you can do it again?"

"Anytime."

That had been a boast, she was a good shot, but through the eye was tricky, especially with such a small animal.

"Face that way and get ready."

The boy had pointed to her left; doing as he said would require turning her back to him. She stayed put.

"I'm not going to shoot you in the back."

Katniss stared back still unmoving.

"Alright," the boy sank slowly to the ground and picked up a small rock. In one motion he stood and pitched to rock into the bushes from which the quail had flown earlier.

There was an explosion of feathers, again by reflex Katniss turned and shot. The arrow flew straight and, true to her word the quail fell with the arrow in its eye. Katniss turned quickly stringing another arrow as she did, but the boy was gone, and so was the other quail.

The next time they had met Gale was hard at work skinning a deer. Katniss saw that his bow was out of arm's reach, conferring on her the advantage he had enjoyed in their previous encounter. He looked up, gray eyes blazing when he heard her footsteps. Deliberately Katniss had set her bow on the ground and left it as she offered to help him. The deer was far too large for one person to carry, and with her help he could minimize the risk of being caught while smuggling the food into the district.

Their relationship after that had been a practical one, they were better at getting food together than they were singularly. It had taken nearly a year for trust to be truly established. Their partnership had saved them both on several occasions. Once Katniss had nearly become prey herself when the one wolf se had seen had turned out to have six friends that she hadn't. Another time gale had gotten caught in one of his own traps, his leg was badly wounded. Katniss had helped him home, then run the trap line for the next two months while he recovered so that the meat that the traps caught didn't spoil.

Over the years the trust had deepened, and had become affection. Katniss had barely noticed as the skinny boy she had met in the woods grew into a man. His cracking voice had deepened, his chest and shoulders had broadened, and now he stood tall, and slim but well-muscled, with striking features and a wicked smile. The only thing that did not change was his gray eyes. They stayed as clear, perceptive and violently alert as ever.

The other girls noticed, but he was coolly indifferent to them. Katniss had thought that he, like her was too preoccupied with keeping himself and his family alive to notice their attention. It was not until after the Games that she had learned the reason of his indifference to the other girls. He had not been as blind as she and had noticed as she moved through awkward adolescence into maturity.

Later when they were in the forest together after the Games had ended he had told her.

"How could I look at them when I knew that you existed?"

"Gale, I-"

"I know that you love him Katnip. I know your face, and the expressions that it can make. I'd know if you were lying, but I know that you love me too."

"I do."

"Then that's enough for now."

Katniss was surprised when she careened into an object that she had not seen, though it was directly in her path. She was surprised again to find that the object was a person. This brought her out of her thoughts and back to the present. She looked around frantically. A great billowing cloud of dust had risen from the collapsed tunnel. The air was thick with the dust as it settled; Katniss covered her mouth and nose with her shirt.

"Gale!"

She heard no answer, though the crowd of people milling around her were all shouting names and rushing about just as she was. Katniss pushed through a knot of people and again shouted.

"Gale!"

She kept moving, oh Unity what would she do if he was dead?

"Gale!"

The dust coated the skin of her face and hands, and choked her, despite the filter the cloth of her shirt provided. Katniss coughed several times trying to clear her throat then she continued to call out.

"Gale!"

"Katniss."

The voice wasn't Gale's but it was familiar, she looked around and saw Cinna moving through the crowd. When she caught his eye he jumped and pointed to a spot just beyond the crowd. Katniss shoved her way through the people. Through the haze, standing atop a pile of debris was an unmistakable figure.

"Gale!"

Her feet moved of their own accord as she closed the distance in a second, paying no mind to the scattered debris that littered the ground. She vaulted onto the pile a split second after Gale saw her coming. They collided, Gale's arms around her crushing her, her face buried in his chest. She looked up at him and he rained kisses down on her dirty face.

When she was able to pull away enough to examine him she saw that a river of red ran down his face.

"You're hurt."

"A scratch, scalp wounds always bleed like crazy. Hold on," he said then shouted over her shoulder, "Don't shift that you idiot, it'll bring down the whole structure on the men trapped below. Secession Katniss," he swore, "I told Cray not three weeks ago that termites had been at the support beams, hell some of them were rotten before I ever went down there."

"How many are trapped?"

"At least two hundred, they just started second shift, I'd be down there but the foreman asked me to come up to-" he broke off, "Katnip I have to go make sure that they don't do anything stupid, we have got to get those men out of there."

"Go on, Mum and Prim will need help with the wounded."

She kissed him quickly, and then turned to climb down from the pile. He seized her and pulled her into another crushing hug for a moment. He didn't say anything, but she felt his whole body tremble. He let her go and jumped down from the pile heading back toward the mine shaft, she could hear him barking a stream of expletives and orders as he went.

Katniss jumped down as well and surveyed the scene. She couldn't see much, the dust was thicker than ever, but the sounds were not muffled. Some people were crying for their loved ones, others were crying out in pain and everywhere there was panic and confusion. In the distance she could just make out a faint light swinging rhythmically. She moved toward it, on the way she met Cinna who joined her as the source of the light became apparent. A horse drawn cart with a lantern swinging from it. Katniss saw Prim and her mother sitting on the bench and could just make out Peeta riding in the back. She and Cinna met them as they pulled the horses to a stop.

"Katniss," Prim shouted, "Gale?"

"Is fine Little Duck, just a scratch on his head."

"I'll go stitch it."

"No Prim," their mother said quietly, "first we have to triage the wounded and see who needs the most help."

Prim's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment; of course they could not leave the wounded and dying to tend to a scratch.

"Sorry Mom."

"It's alright, Mr. Cinna,"

"Yes?'

"You are handy with a needle and thread, are you not?"

"Yes."

"Could I put you in charge of stitching up any minor injuries while my daughters go around assessing the injured?"

"Of course," Cinna agreed without hesitation. Her mother handed him a suture kit and he disappeared into the dust.

"Peeta, I need you to get some of the other strong boys to help load people into the cart."

Peeta hopped down from the cart and after a quick glance at Katniss to reassure himself she was alright he too disappeared into the gloom.

Katniss was about to ask how she could help when her mother spoke looking past her.

"Ah, Ms. Trinket could I enlist you?'

"Pardon? No. Katniss, oh rebellion," Katniss had never heard Effie swear before, "Katniss look at your lovely new clothes, what will Cinna say when he sees?"

Anger leapt up in Katniss, and for the first time ever she wanted to strike Effie Trinket."

"He has seen, he is out there," Katniss swung her arm around to indicate the mayhem surrounding them, "helping."

"Oh yes," said Effie as though noticing the scene for the first time, "Katniss dear we must get you cleaned up and to the train station. The train is supposed to leave in half an hour."

It was Katniss's turn to swear, and she was better at it than Effie was, she watched with satisfaction as Effie paled slightly at her language, before turning her back on the woman and following Prim.

Katniss had it easy, she thought as Prim examined each wounded man they came across. All she had to do was take down the notes as Prim spoke and call the pickup crew for any serious cases. There were quite a few serious cases. Some did not survive even long enough to be examined. It was heart breaking; most of these men Katniss had known all of her life. Some she had traded with at the Hobb, and nearly all were the fathers or brothers, or in a couple of truly hideous moments the sons of families she knew and liked.

They had been going about it for nearly an hour when they came across a man that Katniss did not know. He was not old, maybe late twenties; the dark gray of the uniform all miners wore was a mess of blood and viscera from the torso down. One leg was held on by a few scraps of flesh. Katniss was horrified to find that he was still alive. She watched as Prim knelt at his side. He was a hopeless case, but Prim never dismissed any injury or patient. So long as they lived she would render care.

"What is your name?"

"Sander," the man managed to say, though the effort of speech was clearly overwhelming.

"Sander, my name is Prim, I am going to try to get you to a doctor right away."

Katniss looked around to signal one of the pickup crew to help them when the man reached out, grabbed Prim's arm and gasped.

"No, please, Mercy."

Katniss watched Prim's always pale face became translucent.

"Katniss, please fetch a witness."

Katniss was stunned; her gentle, quiet little sister's voice had taken on an edge of steel. Ktniss shook her head in amazement then turned to do as Prim had asked. She grabbed the first unoccupied person she met.

"Katniss."

"Come on Effie. We need you to be a witness to a request for mercy."

"Katniss really, we must get you cleaned up and to the train, it is terribly important that we not be late. "

Katniss ignored Effie's protests and dragged the woman along as fast as the mincing steps which were all Effie's dress would allow her to take permitted all the while staunchly refusing to acknowledge that Effie could be concerned with punctuality at a time like this.

"I have brought a witness."

Katniss shoved Effie ahead of her.

"Sander, I need you to tell this lady what it is that you said you want."

Effie turned to Katniss and whined, "Katniss we really must be going, really we must."

"Shut up Effie and pay attention," Katniss commanded.

With obvious effort the man looked up at Effie and choked out the word "Mercy,"

The man coughed and blood erupted from his mouth, flowed over chin and mingled with the dust that coated his face.

"Effie Trinket," asked Prim, "do you stand as a witness to this man's request for Mercy?"

"What? No, I mean, yes I heard him ask for mercy. Katniss please."

Katniss shot a look of disgust at Effie that could have frozen ice, "go away."

Effie, in her desperation took hold of Katniss's arm and began trying to drag her from Prim's side. Katniss wrenched her arm out of the small woman's feeble grasp and turned back to Prim and the dying man. Effie was unable to balance because of her dress and already unstable on the rocky terrain in her stilettos, sprawled helplessly on to the ground. She got up; mustering all the dignity she could manage and strode off toward the direction of the train station.

Mercy was a tradition in District 12; no one could ignore such a request, nor deny the granting of it under pain total social isolation. Prim's hand shook, but her face remained calm, and gentle. Katniss knew that Prim did not want this man to see the distress his request had inflicted upon her.

Once again Sander's hand took hold of Prim.

"No," he spluttered shaking his head, "na you."

The press of his lungs as they filled with blood garbled his speech. His eyes rolled until they rested on Katniss.

"Gir n fie."

"I'm sorry," Prim said, "I don't understand,"

Katniss understood. Gir n fie meant Girl on Fire. He wanted Katniss to give him Mercy, the way she had to Cato while the Mutts were tearing at him. Katniss stepped forward and took the knife from Prim's trembling fingers. She stepped forward and at the last moment remembered to compose her face into a semblance of tranquility she thrust the point home in one swift sure movement.

It did not happen often that she missed a vital area with an arrow, but on the rare occasions when this happened, she always tracked the animal and finished it quickly rather than letting it suffer. This was not the same, though she watched as peace returned to the man's face which had been contorted in pain only moments before. She looked down at her hand still holding the knife, something warm and crimson sprayed across her hand once, twice then a third and last time. Katniss sat back dazed. She had done what was required in the moment, now she did not know what to do.

Prim's face swam in front of her eyes.

"Come back."

Katniss looked up confused.

"Where did I go?"

"I don't know but we can't stop yet, more people need our help."

"I-" Katniss trailed off not knowing what she was going to say.

"Not yet," Prim said kindly, "act now, feel later."

This seemed like such sound advice that Katniss thought that she should follow it, if only her legs would respond to her mind's command. Katniss saw a hand and grasped it. A strong arm pulled her up, the sudden shock of movement helped to clear her head.

"Katniss you alright?"

Peeta asked.

"No, but I will be," she said and collecting herself Katniss, Prim and Peeta all went back to work.

Later at the house that had been assigned to Peeta, and which now functioned as a very cramped hospital Katniss was bandaging. She hadn't seen Cinna since before they had all moved up to the house. She was busy helping patch the least wounded. Gale was presumably still overseeing the excavation of the mine, and Peeta was also strangely absent.

Katniss was just finishing the wraping of a sprained wrist when she heard her mother shouting.

"Get out of my house you lousy drunken bastard!"

Katniss looked up to see a vase shatter against the wall right beside Haymitch's head. He ducked, which was impressive for a man clearly three sheets to the wind.

"Hold on now I am just trying-"Haymitch was interrupted by another flying object this one heavier, it made a hole in the wall rather than shattering.

"Alright you crazy, I tried."

Haymitch backed out the front door, and confused Katniss returned to her work. She didn't look up again until two Peacekeeper's grabbed her under the arms and dragged her kicking from the house.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: A thousand thanks to J for being supportive and enthusiastic about this story, the motivation and feedback made this chapter and the ones to follow possible.**

Chapter 5

"_From a tiny spark floweth a mighty flame"_

-Dante Alighieri

Katniss thrashed, kicked, swore, and fought as she was dragged down the front steps of her mother's house and across Victor's Circle. It did no good, the two men held fast to her and no matter how she struggled she was unable to shake loose their grip. Finally she was able to twist just enough to get a glimpse of one of their faces. In her panic she momentarily imagined that the man's face morphed into her dream vision of the mutts that tried to climb the trees to kill her. For a second her mind was unable to sort dream from reality, she panicked, twisted and sank her teeth into the mutt's hand. In the instant that she tasted blood he released her.

Katniss tried to run, but the other Peacekeeper still held her.

"Savage!"

The Peacekeeper whose hand she had bitten shouted and smacked her across the face. Katniss froze, it wasn't the pain which spread across her face that paralyzed her, it was the shock of epiphany. Katniss did not try to run, but stood her mind teetering on the edge of a clarity she had never experienced before. A sudden wash of rage burnt all other emotion from her body, the fear, uncertainty, and anxiety that had plagued her since the Games vanished in an instant. As she tried to figure out what she was thinking she heard Cinna rushing up to them from behind her.

"Not the seceding face!" Cinna shouted.

Katniss watched as the Peacekeeper's face became confused.

"She bit me," he said holding out his hand as evidence.

"And if she is late, or has a black eye Snow will have the whole arm off, she has to be in front of a camera in less than half an hour you idiot!"

Cinna turned from the Peacekeeper and began to examine her face.

"A little swelling, but you should be fine. Come on let's go."

"Hey we are supposed to get her to the stylist."

"Congratulations," Cinna said fishing a card out of his pocket that identified him as an official stylist for the Victory tour, "you succeeded; I'll take it from here."

He said slipping his arm through Katniss's as he began to lead her back to her house. Katniss was unwilling to move. Cinna paused, her face was hard its expression implacable, he could see that her mind was far away. He waived a hand in front of her face, she didn't flinch, he saw she was not even really aware that he stood beside her.

Internally Katniss was at war, the sharp clarity of her feelings did not reflect in the chaotic fog that had become her thoughts. The throbbing in her cheek served as a focal point, but it was disconnected from the event that had caused it. Her mind fought to assemble the events of her life into a gestalt. On one level images of events flashed through her mind each one a discreet event without context or sense of time. On another she tried to understand what had happened to cause this sudden sensation.

The way her mother's face looked when she heard that Katniss's father had died, the water as it crashed over Haymitch's back, Peeta in the moonlight, her hands bathed in Sander's blood, the siren blaring, Gale safe, Effie's voice saying Prim's name, Peeta leaning on a cane, Roses that smelled of blood, Rue's death, Prim with gaunt and sunken cheeks still smiling up at her, the broken bodies of miners, blood running down Gale's face, wrapping a sprained wrist, the look on the Peacekeeper's face as he slapped her.

The two levels of her thoughts merged. Gestalt achieved. Katniss extricated her arm from Cinna's and began to walk back toward the Peacekeepers.

"Katniss, what are you doing?"

Cinna's voice reached her ears from a great distance.

"I am going to kill that Peacekeeper."

"Wha- no."

Cinna ran after her, getting in her path and forcing her to stop.

"Move."

"No, not now, not yet."

"Yes, now."

"Katniss please, if you are my friend, if you have ever felt the slightest affection for me understand that I will suffer terribly if you are not on that train in," he paused to check his watch," seventeen minutes."

A flicker of awareness showed in her eyes. Cinna seized the moment.

"By all means, kill the Peacekeeper, just not now."

Katniss focused on Cinna's face, not on the rich brown of his eyes, but on the burning Mockingjay reflected in the irises. The image struck her with a terrible sense of foreboding; her whole body felt itself growing hot, as though she were the one on fire, as though the person that had been Katniss was burning away. Her skin felt uncomfortable, as though it were too tight, her body seemed too small a vessel to contain all that she felt in that moment.

Cinna felt as she began to shake.

It was strange that so small a thing drove her to resolution, after all she had been through it was the casual way that one insignificant Peacekeeper had hit her that canalized her feelings. In an era long dead people would have used the phrase "the straw that broke the camel's back" to describe what had happened to her in that moment, but Katniss had never heard of a camel nor would she have understood the word straw in that context. All she knew was that something had shifted in her, she felt, not happier, but less burdened, she could move again. This, she thought, must be how Gale feels all the time.

Katniss thought of articulating her revelation to Cinna, but remembered the tracker in her arm and stayed silent. She nodded at him and the started off for her house again.

They put Katniss through an abbreviated beauty routine. They dressed her in a simple outfit that managed, under Cinna's expertise, to seem both elegant and casual. She sat silently in the motorcar they sent to take her to the station. She did not look out the windows as they rolled through the District; the air was still hazy with the dust from the mine. Instead she glared at the back of the driver's seat, all the while fingering the cuff of her left sleeve. She liked the feel of the hidden bowstring as she rolled it between her fingers, it felt like vengeance, it felt like power. It felt like freedom.

That was the substance of her epiphany. She and her little family would escape District 12. It was the only way to ensure that the Capitol never got another crack at throwing her sister into the arena. The only way that they could guarantee Gale's brothers and sister were never called, and, she thought with a shudder, the only way to take her own children, if ever she had them, forever out of the danger of the Hunger Games.

That they might all die in the wilderness did not phase her, that they might be captured, almost certainly would be hunted forever did not factor into her thinking at this time. Such notions were mere trivial, they were dangers she faced in the District or out of it, but a chance to get beyond the Capitol was a staggering fever dream. She had resolved to use this tour as a chance to research their options. Should they go north or south? Where would provide the greatest supply of food, and the greatest chance that they would be able to hide successfully?

Wild thoughts of escape were still swirling through her mind when they arrived at the train station. Cinna and Effie got out of the car and hurried toward the waiting train. Katniss was not surprised that the crowd that traditionally gathered to send the District's champion off on the Tour was absent. What was unusual was that a large number of Peacekeepers milling about. They had clearly just disembarked from the train as many of them were rifling through a large pile of bags that had been tossed on the ground in a hasty disorganized way. Those that had already collected their luggage were wandering around, most looking either bored or disgusted by their surroundings.

It occurred to Katniss to ask about this sudden inflow of police when she was ushered toward the platform by a Peacekeeper with pale blond hair and milky blue eyes.

"Right this way Miss Everdeen," he said while gesturing, and to his everlasting, if unknown, good fortune her did not try to touch Katniss while directing her.

The first person she recognized was Peeta, sitting uncomfortably in a suit that perfectly matched the outfit she had ruined earlier. He was resting on a bench, his good leg stretched out in front of him; at his side was the cane he rarely needed since getting used to walking with his false leg. Katniss decided that he must have strained his good leg helping to carry the wounded. When he saw her he started to rise, the look of relief in his eyes at her arrival was endearing, she felt some of the heat of her anger subside, and then hot tears began to form at the corner of her eyes. Katniss shook her head before he could approach her. Confused Peeta spread his hands questioningly.

"Later," Katniss mouthed, "stay there."

Still unsure Peeta sank back down onto the bench. Katniss knew it was only her new found rage that animated her body at this moment and if for one moment the fire was cooled she would be lost.

Katniss looked around, there was a small cadre of camera people, Effie trinket stood a little way off her arms crossed and deliberately not looking at Katniss. She did not see Haymitch, but Madge was there.

Madge Undersee didn't look like a Townie, or a Seamster. She had long curly russet hair big green eyes and a small doll like face with constellations of freckles stretching across her button nose. The effect was one of disarming fragility, and was enhanced by her small stature and slight frame. The impression was disarming, but misleading. Katniss knew and liked Madge more than any of the other girls in the District for her sharp wit, quick mind, and steely determination. Katniss had never known anyone whose appearance and personality were so incongruous, and after getting over her natural tendency to dismiss with impatience people she considered irrelevant she found a real friend in Madge.

"Hi Katniss," Madge waived from behind a podium that had the symbol of District 12 affixed to the front. There was a microphone that one of the camera men was fiddling with. Not willing to sit next to Peeta yet, realizing how much she wanted to seek comfort in the simple pleasure of contact with someone she loved, Katniss moved over to the podium to talk to Madge.

"Hey, what is this?" She asked.

"Oh dad was supposed to give a speech to send you off on the tour, but he is dealing with the aftermath of the disaster."

"Have you heard any news?"

Madge looked sorrowful and shook her head.

"Gale wasn't down there was he?"

"No, thank Unity."

"Ms. Everdeen," Katniss looked up to the camera man who had been messing with the microphone calling to her.

"Yes?"

"Could you move over by Mr. Mellark so that we can get a clean shot of the speech?"

Katniss nodded, "good luck," she said to Madge, and then she took a deep breath and sat down by Peeta.

"Katniss," Peeta started to say, Katniss shook her head feeling the tears begin to well. She couldn't take kindness right now, only sheer force of will sustained her, and only the clean burning hatred of their enemies gave her to will to continue.

Later she would sob herself into a fitful sleep cradled in Peeta's arms her ear pressed to his chest listening to his heartbeat. Not yet though, now she had keep going, for just a little longer she had to keep up the pretense of a strength that had failed her.

"My name is Madge Undersee, my father in the mayor of District 12 and I am pleased and honored to speak in his stead today. Pressing matters keep him from addressing you, but I will try in my own poor way to convey to the people of Panem our District's pride in these two remarkable people who sit behind me. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark have, in their dual victory in the 74th Hunger Games, done more to show the true meaning of these Games than any Tributes to come before them."

Katniss schooled her face, when she saw how her reaction to Madge's speech looked on one of the screens that had been set up.

"Their victory is the victory of Panem. Singularly each would have failed. Yet because of their steadfast partnership they were victorious. That partnership was founded in mutual love and trust, just as the Districts stand in mutual love and trust with our sovereign Capitol. So to enforce and strengthen this bond of love and trust between the Districts and the Capitol we of District 12 send our best to you the people of Panem as a symbol of our great love and loyalty to greatness and the glory that is Panem."

"That's good, we don't need to shoot it again," one of the crew said in dismissal of Madge, "we can add cheering in post."

Katniss hoped that they would edit out the look of incredulous shock that had crept over her face again and again as she listened to Madge's speech.

Madge stepped down from the podium and walked over to Katniss and Peeta.

"How'd I do?"

"That was amazing," Peeta said he respected a good turn of phrase more than then next person, and Madge's speech had been a valiant effort, "I don't know if it will do any good, but it was a brilliant try."

Madge shrugged, "I don't think it could have hurt and you two need all the help you can get right now."

Katniss nodded as she stood. She had to nod, her voice had finally failed. Madge's speech was the kindness she could not endure. The girl had taken a great risk in publicly allying herself with Katniss and Peeta. No one who heard that speech would be fooled by it, but they would see that the speaker was trying to help her and Peeta. She stepped toward the train, the weight of the events of the day crashing down on her like a tidal wave.

"Good luck."

"Thanks, from both of us," Peeta said seeing that Katniss could not speak.

They boarded the train which took off into the rapidly approaching night.

Katniss felt better after waking, she felt neither the crushing weight of the day before nor the need for the massive tension of hatred that had buoyed her for the last necessary effort. Peeta was beside her, she had told him about her suspicions that the Capitol had left their trackers in them, and that she had been so afraid that Gale would die, and that she had been called on to give Sander Mercy all through wracking sobs and gasps for air. It had been cathartic. The only thing she had held back was Cinna's treason, if she was right she did not want to risk the Capitol hearing about it.

The train swayed in a rhythmic motion as Katniss rose to use the lavatory. She slid the door open.

Blood was splattered over the sink and floor, the medicine cabinet was open and its contents were scattered throughout the small room. In a glass sitting on the counter top by the sink, aside from a fair amount of blood, was the smashed remains of a small metal device. Katniss closed the door, and quickly ran back to the bed; she pulled the blanket back to reveal Peeta sleeping soundly with one poorly bandaged arm.

Blood had leaked from a gap in the bandage onto the soft linen. Katniss went back to the lavatory and fetched what was left of the first aid supplies. Softly she ran a hand through his hair trying to wake him as gently as possible. At last his eyes opened.

"Good morning beautiful."

She nodded at his arm.

"I had to see if you were right."

Katniss nodded then pulled his arm into her lap and began to redress the wound. It was deep, but not so deep as to require stitches. Katniss looked up from her task.

"What does that look portend?"

Her voice was playful, but the question was sincere. She could see that Peeta was deep in thought. His brow was knit and his mouth was set in a hard line, his ice blue eyes were narrowed and stared into the corner of the room unblinking.

"Huh?"

"I asked what you were thinking about."

"Oh, sorry, I was thinking about District 11 and how long until we get to it."

"We can't be too close or the Preps would be banging the door down to get us ready."

"I wonder if we have time to find some breakfast."

Katniss tied the last knot to secure the bandage to Peeta's arm.

"I'll call for room service," Katniss said and started to rise.

Peeta caught her hand and pulled her back down to him, he wrapped his arms around her holding her tightly to him, kissing her neck.

"On second thought, let's skip breakfast and barricade ourselves in here."

Katniss would have replied in enthusiastic agreement, but at that moment his mouth caught hers and they were pleasantly absolved from conversation for a little while. When he released her she rested her head contentedly on his shoulder.

"I can't wait for this whole thing to be over with."

"I can't even think that far ahead, right now I just want one more minute as Peeta Mellark happy husband enjoying a morning with my wife before I become Peeta Mellark dancing puppet of Panem."

There was a bang on the door. Peeta groaned.

"Spoke too soon."

Yet another round of beautification, Katniss wondered if she would have any skin left by the end of the Tour or if the Preps would end up having to paint it on. District 11 provided the country with all of its agricultural needs, and while she was being tortured by the Preps she watched the miles of fields fly by outside the train. She was staggered by the sheer size of the District. How many people had to live and work here to feed an entire nation?

Effie came in midway through the routine. Katniss was surprised to see her dressed in a loose fitting frock and shoes that were very nearly sensible. This must be a new fashion, because Effie was clearly unused to wearing such shoes, she swayed unsteadily on her feet. Effie spoke to Katniss explaining their itinerary for the day. First there would be a brief speech by the Mayor then Katniss and Peeta would meet the families of last year's Tributes. They would each have the opportunity to make a brief statement then they would have dinner with the Mayor. She said all of this while avoiding eye contact with Katniss; instead she talked to the air just above Katniss.

"In order to make up time it is vital that we be back on the train by nine sharp Miss Everdeen. Your cooperation would be appreciated."

"Effie, I am sorry for pushing you yesterday, I was tending to a disaster at the time, and I let my feelings override my manners. I hope you can forgive me. Now you can drop calling me Miss Everdeen."

Effie's lips went pale as she pressed them together in an expression Katniss had seen all too often on that face. It was a look Katniss swore that the woman used only on her. Apparently her completely insincere apology was insufficient.

"It would be most kind if you could try to be back on the train at the appointed time Miss Everdeen."

"Yes Effie I will try."

"Thank you."

Effie turned and left without further words. Cinna came in as Effie left with her outfit for the day.

"I look like autumn in the forest."

She wore a leaf green jacket shot diagonally across her body with gold cloth in the shape of sun rays, brown slacks and brown boots that looked like underbrush bathed in sunlight.

"One more thing," Cinna pulled a gold pin out of his pocket, he pinned the Mockingjay to the left side of her jacket over her heart, "Now you are the Girl on Fire again."

Katniss swallowed hard, at Cinna's words, they made the bilge rise.

_Never again_, she thought, _never, never, never again._

The delay the day before had clearly forced the Tour organizers to change their plans. Instead of a stage in the main square where the Reaping was held each year she and Peeta were pushed up the steps of a large stone building with a high domed roof which served both as a train station and a warehouse for goods waiting to be shipped via rail. The building itself was actually quite lovely Katniss thought, there were no windows, but there was a huge wooden door which was embellished with wide swirls of wrought iron. Down the steps was a small square hedged in by numerous stucco buildings. There was no decoration or fanfare anywhere. The whole setup had a sloppy, makeshift cobbled together sort of look.

She and Peeta were made to stand side by side in front of the massive door while a crew attempted to quickly wire the microphone for the Mayor's speech. Katniss watched as the crowd began to file in. The mass of people they were attempting to crush into the square was restless. People jostled one another, there was a wary on edge feeling as the torrent finally stopped the last people to enter the square was a regiment of Peacekeepers all with guns drawn. Katniss had been stalwartly trying to ignore the four Peacekeepers that flanked her and Peeta, two to a side, also guns drawn.

A stout man of dark complexion, small eyes and a wooly salt and pepper beard wearing a suit and a badge of office climbed the steps. He introduced himself as Mayor Jasper Holt, and then offered his hand to Katniss who shook it. Peeta did the same. Mayor Holt smiled at them then turned his eyes darting around the crowd, nervously he plucked at is beard.

"Where is Haymitch?" Katniss whispered to Peeta.

"I don't know I haven't seen him since he boarded the train yesterday, just before you arrived."

"Some mentor he is."

Whatever Peeta's response would have been was lost as the District's theme music began playing through speakers perched on top of the building. Mayor Holt was announced and he stepped up to the microphone, still absently pulling at his beard.

Katniss barely heard the speech he made praising their victory. It couldn't be genuine; their continued existence meant that two children for this District had died. Katniss could not help but scan the crowd. She took Peeta's hand and squeezed it as her eyes fell on a family huddled together to one side of the stage. There was an elderly woman, whose curly hair was shock white, which stood out against her mahogany skin, surrounding her were five children of varying ages. The oldest was probably eighteen, the youngest was maybe a year younger than Prim. She was the mirror image of little Rue who Katniss had failed to save in the arena last year.

Peeta followed her gaze with his eyes. When he caught sight of Rue's family he released her hand and put an arm around her. As soon as the Mayor of District 11 finished he stepped back and offered the microphone to Peeta and Katniss. Peeta stepped forward first.

"District 11 I am at a loss for words," a blatant lie, Peeta never lacked for words when he needed them, "I have to express to you both my profound sorrow and my immense gratitude. First I must address my gratitude. In last year's Games both Thresh and Rue contributed to the protection and motivation of the person dearest to me in this world. Thank you for whatever part you played in the development of such brave, strong, kind, resourceful, and just people. Second and far more importantly, I realize that the only way that Katniss and I are able to be addressing you today is that both of the children whose attributes I have just praised have been lost to you forever. For this I am sorry beyond the expression of words. There is nothing that I can do to ease the pain of their loss," Peeta paused, his expression becoming hard and implacable in a way that Katniss had not seen before, "but I can try to address a little of the debt that I owe both Rue and Thresh by helping to care for their families. To this end I would like to offer one month of my arena winnings to Rue's family and another to the family of Thresh. I know that this is a paltry recompense for your loss, but it is all that I can do, and I cannot leave here without doing all that I can for Rue and Thresh, and those that were left behind."

The crowd, which had been silent while the Mayor spoke, grew restless. Katniss remembered telling Gale that she would have Peeta do the bulk of the talking in order to avoid her tendency to rouse the ire of the Capitol. Yet here Peeta was stirring the crowd with his expression of regret at the death of their Tributes rather than celebrating Katniss and his victory.

Quickly her mind raced trying to come up with something that she could say to cancel what he had just done. She stepped forward as Peeta stepped back, no real plan in her mind other than that she must make this District hate them. She wanted to direct the feelings that he had engendered in these people into anger at her and Peeta rather than at the country and the Capitol, to remind them that the reason Rue was dead was that she had been unable to protect the girl, and that Thresh had died at the hand of Cato, to distract them from the fact that it was the Capitol that had put them all in the situation that necessitated the deaths of their children.

"When I first met Rue she reminded me of my little sister, I could not look at her without seeing Prim. I teamed with her because I could not help but think of what it would have been to have Prim in the arena. I volunteered for Prim to keep her out of the arena, why did no one volunteer for Rue? Why was it left to me to protect her?"

The restlessness of the crowd increased, but the tone of it changed. Anger was what Katniss had hoped to inspire, and anger was what she felt radiating up at her, like heat from the crowd below her. From random directions in the crowd Katniss could hear voices beginning to be raised. Shouts, the words of which she could not understand, but the tone of which she could not mistake. Katniss leaned in to the microphone again to continue berating the gathered people when something flew past her head. She experienced a moment of triumph, believing that the object had been thrown at her, but her triumph turned to horror when the next object flew through the air, missing her by a wide margin and striking one of the Peacekeepers that stood at her back.

She felt a hand grab hers. She turned.

"Katniss, come on." Peeta pulled her back from the crowd as Peacekeepers closed around them, guns aimed at the crowd who, heedless of the danger continued to hurl rocks and debris at guards.

Katniss heard the creak and whine of the hinges as the massive door was pulled open by one of the Peacekeepers as he ignored the barrage objects which continued to pelt him. Katniss saw a thin trail of blood run down the Peacekeeper's face as she and Peeta stumbled over the threshold and into the cavernous marble room beyond. The door slammed shut a moment later Peeta and Katniss heard a great thunk as the latch slid into place locking them inside.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Karategirl666 I hope that this is sufficient compensation for your sleepless night and nerves uploading your new and entirely wonderful chapter. Stay brave my friend.**

Chapter 6

_War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse._

-John Stuart Mill

The door closed and the lock slid loudly into place. The clang of it echoed through the high domed structure. As the echo died an eerie silence fell over the world. Katniss stood tense and still as a statue waiting. She did not know for what she waited until the crack of rifle fire split the air releasing her from the paralysis that had seized hold of her. The sound careened into the stone of the walls rebounding and reverberating and soon it was joined by the echoes screams and more gunshots. Guilt hit Katniss, twisting her insides, and seizing her lungs.

If it was possible to die from guilt she might have done so in that moment. She began to move, frenetic energy surged through her demanding she act. Katniss began to search the room for a way out. Stupidly she tried the giant door, and as expected could not budge it.

The room was more of a warehouse filled with rows of large crates stacked three high. There was no way out, Katniss could see that at a glance, but she examined every corner as though it might contain some secret method of egress.

While Katniss attempted to occupy her mind and outrun her feelings of guilt Peeta, exhausted, merely put his back against the wall, slid down it, pulled his knees to his chest and cupped his head in his hands. Briefly he tried covering his ears in an attempt to filter out the hateful din of whatever horror was happening outside. He gave it up when his hands could not filter out enough of the sound to matter and resolved that he must find a way to endure . The continued crack of gunfire and the ever mounting volume and desperation of the screams that followed hit him like physical blows.

"There is no way out." Katniss said.

Peeta did not look up.

"No, I don't think there is." His said through clenched teeth.

"I just checked the entire room, trust me there isn't."

"Not what I was talking about." Peeta growled.

Katniss paused. She had heard Peeta's voice grow harsh before but never with her. His tone grated on her already frayed nerves.

"What then were you talking about?"

"This war you seem determined to start."

"Pardon?"

"Your speech Katniss, you called them cowards, you scolded them for Rue's death. Unity Katniss you all but accused them of murdering her themselves."

"I did not."

"Katniss," by now Peeta was yelling both in anger and in order to be heard above the clamorous racket outside, "you don't know people."

"I know that, I did not understand why you tried to win their love and loyalty. That seemed like treason, like you were making the Capitol the enemy and us their friends."

"Unity, just yesterday you told me of how your rage kept you moving and that you feared you would crumble at the first sign of kindness. I was being that kindness for them. Couldn't you feel the hate and the anger that poured off of the crowd?"

"That makes every kind of sense. Did that occur to you standing up there or was it a plan you had mulled over?"

"It was always my plan."

"Then, love why did you not tell me? I would have remained silent. Am I supposed to divine what you are thinking through magic?"

"Is it too much to ask that you trust me? I know I can't shoot a bow or skin a deer but I can talk to people."

"I do trust you, in all things, and with my whole heart, but yes it is too much to ask that I guess what you are thinking. People invented language so that thoughts could be shared."

"What exactly did you think would happen after your little talk?"

"I didn't, I was afraid of what might happen after yours."

"You were afraid?"

"Yes."

"Of rebellion, secession, war?"

"Yes."

"Love, you lie to yourself. Haymitch was right, and it is going to get us all killed."

"Am I to guard every word that I say? I am to second guess every action? How can anyone live like that?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes! You have to think about the consequence of everything that you do and say because it might start a seceding war! Unity with every breath they let you breath you call for war, you choke on the collar you feel around your neck. I see you stagger under the weight of imaginary chains. I am the one who wants peace. I want a quiet, safe life, with you. I want children, and a home and peace."

"I want that too."

"No you don't unless you can remake the world, end the Hunger Games, win our freedom from the control the Capitol has over us, and in doing so you will bring the full weight of the Capitol down on our heads."

Katniss stopped. She had intended to tell Peeta that he was insane. That she wanted peace, and safety, but one thought stopped her. One image flitted through her mind. She pictured the Reaping when Prim's name had been called only it was her own daughter whose name came out of the bowl. Katniss pictured herself standing by, unable to even volunteer while a Peacekeeper dragged her child to her doom. In her mind Katniss ran at the stage drew a bow and shot the Peacekeeper. As she drew a second arrow her mind's eye conjured a squad of Peacekeepers all firing into the crowd, mowing down everyone in their determination to kill her.

She could never stand by and do nothing in the sight of a loved one in danger. She would have no children to be consigned to the Games, and as she thought this she realized that there was no safety in the District, that Peeta's hopes were illusory. She had not told him yet of her plan to escape from the District, her tracker still broadcast every word they said to the Capitol. She had not thought of escape as an act of war, but as things stood, it was. Escape was treason; any defiance of the Capitol's will was treason. She thought of a life free of such control and felt a switch flip in her mind. All her life treason, disunity, secession these were words of dread and guilt, they were words used in anger and profanity. Now they were words of fear and hope inextricably intertwined. They were the words that she knew spelled out her future, if she could but live to see it.

Katniss turned away from Peeta, not in anger, though it still coursed through her like a river of fire, but the anger was not with him. She picked a stack of crates at the end of the room farthest from Peeta, climbed up on top and sat, much as Peeta sat with her knees up and her head in her hands. They remained silent, but of course they were not sitting in silence. The din of gunshots, which had neither ceased nor slowed, except when interrupted by screams, still echoed through the room.

Seconds dragged by, each shot felt to Katniss like it was passing through her, and her throat was sore from the screams she did not voice. At last she looked down at Peeta. He sat as he had been sitting hunched over, but she could see that his shoulders shook. Silently she climbed down from her perch and walked over to where he sat. She slid down next to the man she loved, she was no less angry, but that paled in importance at the sight of him in pain. This was an argument they would have to finish, but later, when they were both stronger. She put her arms around him. Peeta shifted silently, not acknowledging the tears that rolled down his face and rested his head in his wife's lap. Katniss could feel the anger, shame and guilt that he also felt, she stroked his hair and hoped that this would all be over soon.

The echoes had long since died away when the door was finally opened. Katniss looked up, Peeta had gone silent over an hour past and the steady even rhythm of his breathing told her he was asleep. A familiar figure was silhouetted in the door.

"Where in the name of all Unity have you been?"

"What in the name of all Unity have you done," Was Haymitch's terse reply.

"According to Peeta, I started the Second Rebellion."

Haymitch crouched down next to them.

"I hope he is wrong, you know when I told the two of you to make the Tour memorable this is not what I had in mind."

"Well next time be more specific, help me with him."

Haymitch hauled Peeta off of her; he made no sign of stirring from sleep.

"I am not carrying him all the way back to the rebelling train."

Katniss rolled her eyes. She looked at Peeta; his eyes were red and swollen. Still the expression on his face was one of peace, she hated to wake him, to drag him back from whatever measure of serenity he had attained and back into the waking nightmare. As always she tried to be as gentle as possible. Carefully she ran her hand through his sweat matted hair, and called his name.

His eyes fluttered open and seeing her he smiled. She saw the moment when the memory of the previous day flooded into his mind. His face grew hard but his eyes no longer burned when he looked at her. She stood and offered a hand to help him up, he accepted.

_Good start_, she thought.

"Where have you been?"

"My boy you are an entire conversation behind, she'll fill you in. Come on we have to get to the train, it's almost nine."

Haymitch turned and started off before Katniss could point out that he had never actually answered her when she had asked him that question.

Long hours sitting on a cold stone floor, tense with anger and fear had stiffened their joints, so Katniss and Peeta leaned on each other as they followed Haymitch into the eerily silent night. Katniss froze and nearly fell over as Peeta's legs gave out. The square beyond, which mere hours ago had been teeming with life was now painted with the evidence of death. No bodies littered the ground, but the cleanup crew had not had time to scrub the blood from the square. The air was silent around them, even the wind seemed disinclined to rush through the streets emptied of all but the aftermath of massacre.

"Come on," Haymitch said, his voice cold, harsh, and insistent.

Katniss tried to pull Peeta to his feet; it was easier to focus on getting to the train than to try to process what she saw in the square. Peeta just knelt there his eyes unblinking, his mouth agape, shaking his head slowly in a gesture of denial. Katniss heard footsteps coming up from behind. She turned to see a Peacekeeper approaching.

"On your way, nothing to see here."

Without warning Peeta launched himself at the Peacekeeper, tackling him and began raining blows down upon the shocked man.

"Nothing to see? You callus evil bastard," he punctuated each word with a punch, and by the end of the sentence the man had gone limp.

"Peeta, no!"

Katniss tried to pull Peeta off of the unmoving figure, but he did not even notice her. Haymitch soon joined her but Peeta struggled in order to continue hitting the man. The Peacekeeper's face was a ruin of blood when Katniss, not knowing what else to do ran at Peeta putting her shoulder hard into his ribs. She failed to unseat him, but it did at least break his concentration long enough for a Peacekeeper that had heard the commotion to hit Peeta over the head with the butt of his rifle. Peeta slumped and was once again unconscious.

"Secession!"

The Peacekeeper Peeta had bloodied was carried by two of his fellows to a medic's tent, while Peeta was lifted by his shoulders by two other Peacekeepers and dragged onto the train.

"That could have gone better," Haymitch said trying to catch his breath.

"Could it have gone worse?"

"They could have shot him."

Katniss swore at him.

"Come on, we really do have to get back to the train."

"Haymitch, are we going to die, because of this."

"Definitely."

"My you seem cheery."

"Sweetheart I have been dead for so long that the prospect of dying holds no further terrors."

"Funny, I just came to life this year, and it scares the hell out of me."

"If you ever learn the secret of resuscitating the dead, please keep it to yourself."

"Alright old man, let's go to the train."

Katniss stood and helped Haymitch up. They made their way back to the train. Katniss tried not to look around. As soon as they were safely back aboard Haymitch snatched a bottle of something amber and disappeared again. Katniss went to her stateroom, and found it empty. The prospect of sleeping alone that night was unbearable so she wandered the corridors until she found Peeta's room. It had never been used, but she supposed the District 11 Peacekeepers had no way of knowing that. The door slid open Peeta lay, either already, or still, unconscious on top of the blanket. She felt a chill creeping through her, making her shiver slightly. Briefly she considered crawling under the covers, but scrapped the idea in favor the feel of Peeta's body against hers. She slid into bed carefully, trying not to disturb Peeta. Once in place she pulled his arm over her, and still shivering she closed her eyes hoping that the images that were crowding at the edges of her thoughts would not find their way into her dreams.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppose._

-Frederick Douglass

Peeta sat on the edge of the bed in his stateroom and gritted his teeth. Pain pulsed through his hand. He lifted the ice pack which he held to his swollen knuckles. They had already turned a mottled eggplant purple. Katniss's voice called from the lavatory.

"Can you make a fist?"

He tried.

"Barely."

"Since the attempt didn't make you scream you probably didn't break anything."

Peeta closed his eyes, replaced the ice pack and tried to calm his nerves.

"I may have broken that Peacekeeper's face."

"Alright, you probably didn't break anything of worth. Ah!"

Peeta heard the gasp of pain followed shortly by the clink of metal on porcelain.

"Got it." She said, then immediately followed it up with a string of expletives the like of which Peeta had never heard.

"The disinfectant?" He asked.

"Yep," Katniss croaked trying to stifle a cry of pain.

"Stings like hell don't it?"

"I know you are mad at me, but you could enjoy the sound of my agony a little less."

"I was merely appreciating that you have taken the habit of swearing and elevated it to a form of high art."

She answered in another explosion of profanity, though whether it was in response to his statement or to a second splash of disinfectant Peeta did not care to ask. He remained silent until Katniss emerged from the lavatory. She crossed the gently swaying room, cracked open the window and dropped the tracker that had been embedded in her arm onto the rocks below.

Most of District 11 was behind them, the rich fertile fields were giving way to flat plains as they neared the center of District 10.

"Are you able to help me with the bandage?"

"Between us we have two functioning hands; we should be able to manage."

What followed was an incredibly awkward series of mistakes which eventually culminated in Katniss's arm being properly bandaged.

"So are we going to talk about yesterday, or pretend we are okay?" Katniss asked making the final adjustment to her bandage.

Peeta sighed, "I want to just forget about it, so we should probably talk."

"Agreed."

Peeta propped himself against the headboard of the bed and Katniss slid up beside him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"How about you go first," Katniss suggested.

There was a sudden sharp wrap at the door.

"Miss Everdeen?"

The voice was not one that either of them recognized.

Peeta and Katniss looked quizzically at each other, then realization dawned and Katniss rolled her eyes.

"Yes," she called.

"Is everything alright?"

"No, I am having a fight with my husband and would like some time to resolve the issue, unless you feel like you are qualified to mediate."

"I was just asked to check miss."

"I know, and now you have, so leave."

They listened as the sound of his footsteps faded from hearing.

"I didn't smash the tracker, I just dropped it out the window," she said, "you were saying."

"Alright," Peeta coughed awkwardly to buy time and collect his thoughts, "I think that for the first time in our relationship we want fundamentally different things."

"What is it that you want?"

"You."

Katniss smiled, feelings of affection and exasperation vying within her.

"Peeta, you have me."

"Not if 12 falls the same way 13 did."

"Peeta that is why we have to get out of the District, we can make a living in the Wilds."

"And be hunted for the rest of our lives?"

"Peeta, the life that you want in 12 can't exist, not for us. Have you managed to forget the conversation we had with Haymitch?"

"I was hoping to use this Tour to persuade the Capitol that we don't have to die."

Katniss groaned in frustration.

"Peeta, they have been listening to everything that we have said since the Games. Given what all of us have said over the past few months there is nothing that we can do now to convince them we are safe."

"Certainly not after yesterday."

Several moments passed in silence before Peeta turned to look at Katniss. Her face was set in in a stony mask of grief and shame.

"Katniss?"

She looked up at him.

"Those people died because of me. They gave money that they didn't have to provide for me in the Games, and I didn't know enough or think enough to say the right thing. Hell I could have stood silent, and those people would be alive today, and I have not figured out yet how I am going to live knowing that they are dead."

"Katniss-"

Roughly she wiped tears from her eyes.

"Yesterday I was more scared than I have ever been. I can't fathom what I have done, I can't breathe with the pain of knowing that in, what was probably the most important moment of my life, I was so wrong that it might literally destroy the world as I know it. My words killed people and I don't know how to live with that."

"Katniss, when I told you that I thought you had started a war I was as scared as you and I wasn't thinking. Your words did not kill those people; the Peacekeeper's bullets killed those people."

"You said what you were thinking, and you weren't wrong."

"Please don't judge my thoughts on what I say in moments of extreme distress. These are not moments of honest lucidity, when emotion takes over thought it is not more honest it's more reckless."

"Haven't you realized that there can be no peace between us and the Capitol? Not because I wouldn't have it, but because they can't."

It was Peeta's turn to remain quiet. Katniss looked up at his face, his jaw was set in a hard line, his brow was deeply furrowed, and his mouth was set in a thin line. She could see the intensity of his thoughts in his eyes. She hated to see him troubled but was pleased that he was giving their situation serious thought.

As Katniss waited she closed her eyes, her arm still throbbed under the bandage, the car around her rocked gently, and behind her closed lids a hail of gunfire and desperate screams invaded her mind. She wanted to open her eyes and see the images banished, but she knew that she had to process these images, to burn them into her mind, so that she never forgot, in the years to come the price of rebellion. She could not move forward believing that she risked only herself, or only her family.

Sleep had not come to her the previous night, but resolution had returned. Over the past couple of days her mind had been all over the place. Sometimes she had wanted to run from the District, sometimes she had wanted to wage war on the Capitol. So many times she had wanted to ask someone else what she ought to do, to make it their responsibility, to say what they wanted her to say and do what they wanted her to do so that the consequences would be their fault and not hers. Fortunately she had recognized the cowardice and futility of such abdication. Even if she handed over her decision making to someone else that responsibility would still be hers.

The Capitol had to be made to pay for what it had done in District 11. This was an absolute and she feared that Peeta would not understand why she had to be involved in making them pay. Gale would understand and agree, but Peeta was not Gale. Peeta was not a warrior; he was a baker, and a painter. She tried to picture Peeta with a bayonet in his hand rather than a paintbrush. The image would not form. She didn't want to see him that way. She loved his gentleness, and his kindness. Times like those she was sure were coming were not kind to men like Peeta.

"I can't accept that fight or flight are our only options, not yet, not until I have tried everything in my power to find another way."

"I can respect that," Katniss said.

"But you disagree, and I feel this difference as a separation between us."

Katniss sat up and spun so that she faced Peeta directly. She fixed her gaze on his, staring deeply into those haunting blue eyes. Her hand reached out and caressed the side of his face.

"Where is this distance?"

She moved closer and kissed him.

"Wherever it is," she said her hands sliding to the back of his neck moving so that she had one leg on either side of him, "I would have it closed."

More arguments occurred to Peeta's mind, but they became fuzzy and indistinct as Katniss's hands went to work. Soon there actually was no distance between them and for a time they put aside their worries, their fears, and their future in favor of a celebration of the lives that, however tenuous the grasp they still had.

It was another day before they reached the center of 10. They smelled it before they saw it, stockyards and slaughter houses having a very distinct odor. Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, Cinna, and The Preps were in one of the main cars. Katniss and Cinna were pouring over some sketches Katniss had asked Peeta to do of a new bow design she had come up with. Peeta and Haymitch were playing chess, Katniss suspected Haymitch was cheating, she didn't know how as she did not know the rules to the game, but the drunkard seemed to be doing very well against her very sober husband. The Preps were clucking about something. Effie was still absent, she had consented to rejoining them for dinner, but had otherwise remained quite distant, and she still would not so much as ask Katniss to pass the salt.

When the pungent smell hit them everyone accept Haymitch jumped up to slam the windows shut. Katniss saw movement out of the corner of her eye. In one smooth motion Haymitch took a long swig of something that had burned Katniss's nose when she smelled it and pocketed a piece that was shaped like a horse from the board. Katniss smiled and shook her head.

She had never understood the affection that Peeta held for that man. By all rights Peeta should hate him. After all, everything that Haymitch had done in the Games had been to drive her to victory even at the cost of Peeta's life. His actions were as much a mystery to her as Peeta's care for the man. Haymitch only tolerated her, while with Peeta he was attentive, engaged and occasionally sober. Watching as Peeta took his seat again and surveyed the slightly less populated board Katniss smiled thinking that it was good that Haymitch had someone to care about. It also had to help Peeta who had become quite estranged from his family upon their return to the district. He never could quite forgive his mother for her treatment of him.

"Oy Kat."

Katniss turned her gaze from Peeta and Haymitch.

"Huh?" She asked Cinna.

"You went away and you were explaining this design."

"Oh sorry, yeah, I modeled it off of a bow that I saw in the Capitol."

This launched them into a discussion about the merits of recurve versus straight bows, the best materials for bearing the pressures of drawing a bow, and also of some new arrow designs that Cinna had been researching. They continued as the miles rushed by, until the conductor announced that they were less than an hour outside of the District center. Only then did they break off their conversation and adjourn to the washroom. Cinna selected a long sleeved blouse to cover the bandage on Katniss's arm, and a knee length skirt.

"The people of District 10 are big fans of dancing; you will need something that you can move in tonight."

This time when asked to speak Katniss merely looked at the families of last year's Tributes said a quick, I am sorry for your loss, and then stepped back. She presented the Mayor of the District with a particularly gaudy example of Peeta's embellishment of her work, and shook hands with the surviving Victors of the District.

That night at dinner Peeta stayed at the table while a kindly and elderly Victor named Angus taught her line dancing. He was a full head shorter than Katniss, and his deeply lined sun reddened face smiled more often than not. This District had its own accent, and when Angus spoke the accent was so thick that Katniss sometimes had to strain to understand him. Katniss was astonished to see Haymitch sitting off in a corner with the other Victors. Every time she tried to break away from Angus to join him the kindly old man would pull her back onto the dance floor.

Then they were back on the train. Two days later found them in District 9, very like 10 in that it mostly consisted of vast plains, though where 10 was very lightly populated there were far more people, and the altitude was higher. Instead of animals grazing the fields were covered in tall stalks of yellow grass that swayed in the wind. Again they were dragged in front of the gathered masses of the District, Peeta made a lovely speech and Katniss offered her sympathy for the loss suffered by the Tribute's families, she shook hands with past Victors, and ate with the Mayor. Oddly whenever Peeta approached Haymitch, deep in talks with the other Victors, Haymitch would gently send him off asking for a little time with the friends with whom he so rarely got to spend time. This firmly established a pattern that would carry over throughout the rest of the Tour.

Then they were back on the train. This schedule was exhausting and by the time they reached 8 Katniss was well and truly tired of the whole experience. District 8 was small, even by comparison with 12. Large buildings rose high above the ground and belched smoke and steam into the air. Despite her tiredness Katniss was fascinated by the sight. It was so unlike anything that she had ever seen before. The crowd that gathered to hear Peeta's speech and her apology were dressed in uniforms like miners from District 12. The pattern was dually observed and before they knew it they were back on the train.

District 7 brought more new sights. Trees so tall that Katniss felt her neck go sore in trying to see the tops of them, the air was wet and heavy and, if it was possible, smelled green. The District center was located by the sea, a thing that Katniss had only ever seen as a backdrop in some arenas. It was vast and beautiful.

Katniss shook hands with all of the previous Victors, noting that Johanna Mason seemed to be trying to hurt her hand with the pressure of her grip, while she seemed to linger over long in her greeting of Peeta. Katniss reflected that Johanna, like Madge was a person whose appearance and personality did not match. Katniss remembered Johanna's Games; she had played it meek, garnering a score of 4 and ensuring that she got no sponsor assistance. It also meant that she was dismissed by the other competitors. That was until she had gotten her hands on a hatchet and buried the other Tributes dismissal of her along with steel in their heads.

Johanna Mason was short, with a pixie face large expressive green eyes and flaming red hair. Her proportions were astonishing and Katniss could see that Peeta had noticed, and with an artist's appraisal appreciated what he saw. Johanna used her appearance to full effect as her hips swayed suggestively with every step. Peeta looked wide eyed at Katniss.

"I think I was just propositioned."

"I think you might be right, but I am not sure, she was being so subtle about it."

The rest of the night was spent with Katniss covering her mouth trying not to laugh as Johanna threw herself at Peeta, and Peeta tried in his usual gentle way to dissuade her. Later when they were back on the train with Katniss snuggled against him Peeta said.

"Did you notice that Johanna was the only Victor with red hair?"

"Is that a thing I ought to have noticed?" Katniss asked.

"I don't know, it was just so out of place, everyone else had both light or dark brown hair and eyes to match."

"There is a difference between people from the Seam and Townies," she said.

"True, I don't know why I noticed the difference."

"Because you are an artist and she made it completely impossible for you not to notice her."

"That she did, do you think you will be able to sleep tonight?"

"Who knows?"

Katniss shrugged, she had not slept more than five hours total since District 11 and the lack was really starting to tell on her. Cinna had commented that he was burning his way through make up at a ridiculous rate trying to make her look healthy. It was just those damn dreams. At first her mind had constructed pictures of what had happened outside that warehouse in 11 and those were horrible but the dreams she had now were somehow worse. They consisted of her sitting alone in darkness unable to move as the sounds of gun fire and screams echoed loudly while the smell of smoke threatened to choke her.

District 6 was much like 8, a factory town and having seen one Katniss was content to bypass any others. She ought to have been excited to meet the other Victors, but none of them stuck in her mind. Almost as soon as they had stopped they were moving again. In 5 she barely made it through dinner for dozing, but as soon as she laid down in her cabin on the train sleep continued to elude her. One night they tried having Peeta sleep in his assigned cabin. She did sleep, but had woken half the train when she woke screaming. Thereafter she resumed her sleepless nights with Peeta's arm tucked firmly around her.

In 4 she saw the sea again and was introduced to Finnick Odair. Finnick was probably the most famous Victor in Panem. His spectacular beauty, astonishing performance in the arena, and his well-publicized affairs with every person of importance in the Capitol all contributed to his fame. Katniss found him arrogant, though stunning to look at. His skin was golden while his hair was sun bleached. His eyes were a clear sea green flecked with gold and every inch of his body might have been chiseled by some sculptor who sought to produce a treatise on human perfection. The artist would have very nearly succeeded if Finnick's eyes did not look so sad, and if he had sculpted a personality to match Finnick's looks. Fortunately Haymitch's monopoly over the Victor's time meant that she had to endure his company only briefly.

That night as the train sped toward District 3 Katniss gave up on sleep and got up, carefully trying not to wake Peeta and went for a walk along the train. She wandered aimlessly until she arrived at the dining car. She saw a light coming from the galley and moved to the door to see who else was up at this hour. Silhouetted against the light streaming from an open fridge was Effie. Katniss was about to move on when she saw three red lines along the back of Effie's ivory colored robe. Katniss stood looking at the lines. These stripes were not artfully arranged; they had a ragged, random look. Katniss heard a sharp intake of breath as Effie rose a glass of milk in her hand. Something clicked in Katniss's mind.

"What happened to your back Effie?"

Startled Effie dropped the glass which fell to the ground and shattered.

"Oh Katniss look at what you made me do."

Katniss moved to help her clean up the mess.

"Effie-"

"Miss Everdeen why don't you ever do what you are supposed to? Why do you make everything so difficult? Can't I even get a glass of milk in peace?"

"Effie, what happened to your back?"

Katniss tried to make her voice as gentle as possible.

"Nothing, look I just want to get a glass of milk and go back to bed, is that too much to ask?"

"Yes, tell me what happened to your back, the bandages need to be changed."

Effie looked horror stricken, and then she began to cry.

"It's all your fault, they told us that if anything went wrong on the tour that we would be severely punished and you have made it difficult at every turn."

Despite her accusations Effie fell into Katniss's arms as she held them out to the weeping woman.

"I am sorry Effie, I didn't know."

She let the woman cry herself out then she helped Effie to her feet and allowed the woman to lean on her until they got back to Effie's cabin. Katniss had Effie sit on the edge of the bed and remove her robe while Katniss went into the medicine cabinet and retrieved needed supplies. Katniss grimaced as she peeled the blood soaked bandages from Effie's back.

"This will sting a little," Katniss said gently and handed Effie a pillow to cry into as she applied disinfectant. The plush pillow barely served to stifle Effie's cries. When Katniss was done she applied a new layer of bandages.

Katniss was shaken by the sight of Effie out of control. In all of her dealings with the woman Effie had maintained an unbroken dignity.

"I am a citizen of the Capitol, am I not?"

"Yes Effie."

"How then do they presume to flog us as though we were District dwellers?"

"We?"

"Katniss I told them, I begged President Snow not to make me come on this Tour. I told him that I could not govern your actions and you, what do you do first day? You delay our departure. How am I supposed to stop you? Brute force?"

Katniss realized that this was the first time in Effie Trinket's life that the woman had ever been in danger; she had no mechanism developed by which to cope with fear. Sympathy was strained by Effie's obvious opinion that physical punishment should be reserved for the common District rabble.

"I am a citizen," Effie pleaded, "How can they do this to me Katniss? What else will they do to me?"

"Nothing Effie, Peeta and I will give them no more reasons to hurt you."

Effie looked at Katniss with a hopeful pleading expression. Tears still ran down Effie's painted cheeks. It wasn't Effie's fault that she had been assigned to the District 12 Tributes the previous year, and it was not her fault that Snow would not allow her to abandon them now. Effie was caught in a trap and Katniss could pity her, even if she found herself in the same trap.

"Try to sleep Effie."

Effie nodded laid back on her side and closed her eyes. Rage swelled in Katniss as she sat and patted Effie's hand until the woman had cried herself to sleep. As soon as her breathing steadied, apart from the occasional whimper Katniss was up and running down the corridor.

_She said we._

As soon as she found the door she was looking for she pounded on it with her fist.

"Yes?"

Cinna asked blearily as he opened the door. Katniss pushed into his room, her fury barely contained.

"Turn around," she commanded.

"Katniss it's- " he turned to look at the clock. Katniss did not wait for him to decipher the numbers in his sleep addled state. She advanced on him, took hold of the collar of his robe and ripped downward. The white of a freshly changed bandage stood in stark contrast to his dark skin. Katniss released him and moved over to a plush armchair by the car's window and collapsed heavily into it.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Cinna shrugged the robe back over his shoulders and took a seat on the edge of his bed.

"What good would it have done?"

"I would have known."

"It would not have made you abandon the rescue effort, nor should it have. I knew the price when I decided to pay it."

"But-"

"In District 11, what you said, it was ill advised, but it wasn't wrong. I'll take a few stripes for someone to finally ask what should have been asked by every citizen of Panem for the last seventy four years. Katniss I am a Citizen of the Capitol, born and raised and I have never understood why the people of the districts surrender their children. Every year, without so much as a fight they send their children off to slaughter. How could they? I don't come close to understanding, that it why I worked so hard to help you make the best impression possible. It is important that people see others like you who will fight for what is right, even if they don't completely understand that is what they are doing."

"Is that why you have helped me ever since? Is that why you are willing to commit treason to arm me against the Capitol?"

"Partly, and also partly because I have grown to care about you, and also because," he trailed off, "Katniss, you don't know what it is like to be a parasite."

Katniss looked confused.

"Katniss, the Capitol wields power, but makes nothing. It claims ownership of everything, but it produces nothing. Everything that I have has been provided to me by the sweat of someone else's back. Not everyone in the Capitol believes that this is right, I am one who doesn't."

"Cinna, I don't know what to say."

"Nothing need be said, I would offer you a hug, but," he indicated his back, "don't think of it anymore, I am not without strength. You have enough to worry about."

"Cinna, I-"

She didn't even know what she was going to say.

"If you want to help me, get some seceding sleep, the bags under your eyes are getting harder to hide by the day."

Katniss nodded, suddenly more tired than she had ever believed possible, she pushed herself to her feet, and managed to stumble down the hall. She fell heavily into bed and was asleep even before Peeta could ask if she was alright.

District 3 would have been fascinating if she had gotten to see any of it, but this visit fell neatly into the pattern of all the others. Katniss barely noticed as she was introduced to the other Victors, it didn't matter she would not be permitted to speak to them anyway. She stayed close to Peeta, rarely releasing his hand. When she woke she had told him about Effie and Cinna. Once again she saw Peeta's eyes flash with anger, but he made little comment other than to express a new found admiration for Cinna. Katniss noticed that he was particularly kind to Effie on the train the next day, offering to bring her anything she might want so that she need not stand to get it herself. The air between Katniss and Effie seemed to have thawed slightly as well, making their time on the train somewhat more pleasant.

Then they were back on the train. District 2 was fascinating, not because Katniss got to see any more of it than she had any other Districts, but because of the people. In most Districts the crowds that gathered to meet her and Peeta were loud, unorganized and often unruly. The people of District 2 stood, in uniform rows, silent and attentive.

They applauded politely when she repeated her, "I am sorry for your loss," litany, but unlike in the other Districts the crowd standing at rigid attention did not seem to respond emotionally to her apology.

"That was weird," Katniss said when they were back on board the train.

"Yeah, did you notice?"

"Notice what?"

"Most of the people in district 2 had flaming red hair."

Katniss did not know what to make of this observation so she remained silent.

District 1 was so similar to the Capitol that it gave her goose bumps to be there. It was just after Peeta's speech that they hit a snag. Katniss would not step forward to offer her now traditional apology to the families of the previous year's fallen Tributes.

"Katniss what are you doing?"

Peeta asked.

"I am not doing it."

She said her expression hard and implacable.

"Why not?"

Katniss looked at Peeta, "their son slaughtered a child."

It was Marvel of District 1 that had killed Rue. Katniss could still see the look on little Rue's face as the spear slid through her little body. She had looked surprised, confused, and at last scared. Katniss would submit to a public lashing before she apologized for wiping the monster that had killed Rue from the world.

"Katniss," Peeta's voice, was harsh and this more than anything pulled her from her memories, "their son was a child that was slaughtered."

His words hit her like a hammer. She glared at him for a moment before stepping forward, leaning into the microphone and saying, as sincerely as she could manage, "I am sorry for your loss."

"You did the right thing," Peeta reassured her when they were back aboard the train.

"It didn't feel like the right thing."

"Fine, you did the necessary thing, and that is almost as good."

Katniss didn't think that Peeta was correct in that assumption, but she let it pass as the train sped off into the night with every mile of track the wheels ate they drew closer to their final stop on the tour.


End file.
